Patience Is A Virtue
by ReadingAddictWeirdo
Summary: Logan's feelings for Carlos begin exploiting impulsively. What could possibly go wrong? Logan/Carlos.
1. Arousing Thoughts

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Big Time Rush.

**Warning: **Contains perverted thoughts. Logan/Carlos. (Italics = Flashback)

**One – Arousing Thoughts**

"You wanna be famous!" the boys sang, bobbing their heads along with the catchy beat of the song.

"Your song is on the radio. Hot rotation video. Bright lights, fan mail," Logan sang, all the while his eyes began secretly shifting to Carlos' direction from time to time.

The raven smiled big and gave James a knuckle touch. Logan watched the contact of fists between the two as he continued to sing his solo. He felt jealous in a way that he could have the actual nerve to murder his tall friend just by sitting next to Carlos. The cloudy idea was now clear that Logan absolutely _liked_ Carlos and wouldn't stop at anything to win his love. The raven didn't know about this though, it was a secret wanting to be released.

"Famous means that you're the best!" Logan concluded.

The ending beat hummed loudly in their ears while Gustavo's expressionless face gradually turned serious, and he looked at Kelly for a second then turned back to look at the boys. There was a long, eerie pause.

"How was that?" asked Kendall, showing off one of his signature dimples.

Gustavo sighed. "Dogs, that was the most vulgar singing I have _ever_ heard in my entire life! You can _go_ now." He waved boredly.

The boys groaned, disappointed, as they opened the door out of the studio and waved disheartened goodbyes to their manager.

**ooo**

"Gustavo is so wrong. He woke up on the wrong side of the bed today. We sounded awesome!" Carlos complained, throwing himself on the couch and turning on the television with the remote control.

As soon as they had arrived at apartment 2J they began complaining to Mrs. Knight about how Gustavo had insulted them once again. A manager is supposed to be supportive of the band's vocal abilities, _not_ demeaning. Logan sat down next to Carlos as James and Kendall entered the kitchen and returned seconds later with drinks. Carlos took the iced tea happily from James' hand, whilst Logan did the same with Kendall. The fair-skinned boy's jaw tightened as he stared from the corner of his eye, watching as James sat down next to Carlos whose lips were currently sucking on the red straw dipped in the iced tea.

Logan imagined; he imagined the perverted, overused thought of his little friend being forced to suck his dick, and then fuck Carlos' brains out, making him beg for more and calling out his name. Heartbroken, these were all illusions and Logan sipped on his drink fumingly as Kendall sat next to him. The television screen went from black to an uprising of vibrant colours, revealing that the show Blue's Clues was starting. Naturally, in the morning, Carlos loved to watch Nick Jr. so he was bursting with joy at the moment when Steve waved through the window and Blue came out of the house.

"Hi, Steve!" Carlos waved as the protagonist greeted a hello.

He sipped furiously now, and the sounds of him sucking on that straw made Logan's forehead glisten with cold, invisible sweat.

James silently groaned. He wouldn't be able to watch Fashion Police all because of the stupid blue dog. He was able to change the channel, but Carlos would _never_ allow it. If Blue's Clues was on, one should never make the mistake of changing the channel or suffer the wrath of Maniac Carlos. So, the brunette had to deal with it.

"We can play Blue's Clues to figure out where the key to our trunk is!" Steve exclaimed as the giant blue paw print on the screen opened up, exposing a smaller paw print.

"I know where it is! I know what's in that trunk, too, I think… I already saw this episode!" the raven shouted at the screen while he continued to drink his iced tea in anxiety.

James beamed. "So can I change the channel?"

"No!" Carlos snapped, glaring daggers at his friend as he hit him on the head with the remote control.

"Ow! Dude, my hair! You _hit_ my hair!" screeched James. He took out his lucky comb from his pants pocket, and tried to adjust his hair to its once normal state.

Carlos ignored him and continued to watch the television as Steve and Blue began to sing. "'Cause when we use our minds and take a step at a time, we can do anything…that we wanna do!" he sang along, bouncing on the couch happily, making his drink and the others splash everywhere.

"Carlos! Stop, you're spilling all our drinks!" Logan cried.

Carlos stuck out his tongue, ignoring his friend's request. Logan gulped, scowling, and for a brief second, he thought how it would feel like to bite down on that wet, pink tongue—the things he could do with it. He punched the raven on the shoulder instead, and finished his drink.

"Boys, Katie and I are going shopping. Don't break anything while I'm gone," Mrs. Knight announced as she gathered her purse and exited the apartment with Katie trailing behind her.

"Bye, mom," was the only response coming from Kendall as he took all the boys' finished drinks, entered the kitchen and put them in the sink.

Meanwhile, Carlos was too busy trying to remember what was in the trunk that Steve and Blue had found, and James had gone to the bathroom to fix his hair. Logan felt relieved and lucky. James was in the bathroom, Kendall was in the kitchen preparing a snack, and now he had Carlos all to himself on the couch. But this was all just imagination. It was not possible that he could ravish the raven right there and then! Who knows what might happen; Carlos could punch him, decide to quit the band, move out and then he'll never see him again. Since Logan was the smart one he was always jumping to the worst of conclusions, which was _not_ a good sign in his mental health stability.

"There! The paw print is right there, Steve! Yes, the musical notes!" Carlos spasmed, pressing his face on the television screen, his eyes going wide and twitchy.

Logan gulped. He wished that was his face that Carlos was pressed up against to, and then he could be able to suck on those plump lips, making Carlos whine and moan. That wouldn't happen in a million years, though. He gulped again, rubbing the knuckles of his hands against his jeans.

"The key! Open it, open it… It's a farmhouse! I knew it, a _farmhouse!_ See, Logan, I was right and now you owe me ten dollars!" Carlos proclaimed, turning around to look at his perplexed friend.

"Wh-what? You didn't say anything about a bet," he complained, trying not to think of how adorable Carlos looked—grinning smugly, kissable cheekbones popping out.

"Yes, I did! Remember, when Kendall and James were in the kitchen?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Yes. Logan remembered and realized that at the time he had been thinking about raping Carlos and had ignored everything else. He chewed on his bottom lip, trying to come up with an excuse that wouldn't make the raven get angry for not listening or cry hysterically because he'd be denying the existence of the gamble. Having found no satisfying vindication in his thoughts, Logan gave up and took out his wallet.

"Fifteen bucks," Carlos spoke up, his brown eyes sparkling.

"You said ten, quit lying," Logan countered, taking out a ten dollar bill.

"Fifteen," the raven declared in a demonic voice, his face gradually turning a light red out of growing anger.

"Fine, fine, but next time–"

"You also owe _me_," Kendall interrupted, coming out of the kitchen with fresh pizza rolls.

Before he could place the plate on the table Carlos snatched it away. "Mine!" he shouted as he began gulping down the mini pizza rolls, not bothering to chew correctly.

He sat down on the floor, facing the television, excited there was another episode of Blue's Clues. Before he could get fully comfortable, he felt something tap his back. Carlos turned his head and saw that Logan had his arm stretched out, a ten and a five dollar bill, ready for grabbing, on his hand. The raven happily snatched it with his teeth, almost biting Logan's finger off. The boy wished Carlos would have just ignored the money and sucked on his fingers instead, making them wet and warm so after he could–

"Where are _my_ fifteen bucks?" Kendall asked as he sat down on the couch, staring at his short friend who had stolen his pizza rolls.

"What do I owe _you?_" Logan asked in a bored tone, his eyebrows raised.

"The chocolates, roses?" Kendall reminded, giving Carlos a disappointed look as he almost finished the _blonde's_ lunch.

Once again Logan was reminisced of depressing flashbacks. It had happened two days ago…

_Logan was intoxicated with over-joy. He was about the enter Carlos' room, a heart-shaped box with chocolates inside and a bouquet of red roses hidden behind his back, which were bought with Kendall's money since he was broke at the time. It was the perfect time to confess his feelings. Logan almost broke into tears of happiness as he opened the door and entered the room. Just as Carlos heard him come in he began to freak out and told Logan all about his date with Stephanie, which he had kept a secret for no particular reason._

_This was the raven's first date in years and he wanted to make it special, even though he wasn't the type they called 'lovey-dovey boy'. The sad thing was that he had planned to get the girl a gift and he had forgotten about it. Logan, being the absolutely good friend he was to Carlos, let his heart leap in sorrow for a moment before revealing the presents and giving them to his friend._

_"Here… You can give these to her…" he said, handing the flowers and chocolates to Carlos as he tried to gulp down the big lump that had formed in his throat._

_"Dude, these are perfect! Thanks, Logan!" the raven exclaimed, hugging him._

_"Y-you're welcome…" he responded, appreciating the time he had close physical contact with the shorter boy, having enough will to wrap his arms around his waist. _

_How he wished for that waist to be below him, jerking and thrusting to his every touch. Carlos pulled away and smiled at him before waving one last time, running out of the room, holding the flowers and chocolates close to his chest. __Logan growled once the door had closed. How he loathed that girl…_ _Ever since she had arrived to the Palm Woods Carlos wouldn't stop talking about her and it had him fed up. The thing that made everything even more atrocious was that the day he had picked for his feelings to finally come to his senses _had_ to be the same day as the freaking date, and that had crushed Logan's heart. He had gotten his hopes up for nothing._

"Oh, right…" Logan answered, taking out another ten and five dollar bill and giving them to Kendall with a shaking hand.

"Don't worry, he'll realize soon," the blonde abruptly whispered and winked, taking the money. And in a flash, he was out of the apartment. He had a date with Jo and _didn't_ want to be late or else bad things might happen.

"Logan, do you want one?" Carlos said after the awkward silence.

He laid his back on the floor, his belly full from the snack, and smiled up at his friend, offering him the last of the pizza rolls.

"Yeah, sure," Logan answered, taking the pizza roll from the caramel-coloured hand and popping it in his mouth.

Minutes later, Carlos had fallen asleep on Logan's shoulder. It turned out that Blue's Clues was having an all-day marathon. Logan had fallen asleep too, his head lightly resting on Carlos'.

The door to the bathroom opened, unveiling James with his perfected hair. "Guys, I– Uh…um." He blinked as he found his two friends sleeping on the couch, which made him feel kind of…unnatural in the room. He looked around for a second, grasping the thought that something was missing. "Where did Kendall go?"

* * *

**A/N:** Yeah…this was fun to write, lol. Should I continue it? (;


	2. Silent But Deadly

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Big Time Rush.

**Warning: **Contains implied suicide, angst. Logan/Carlos.

**Two – Silent But Deadly**

It was pretty late when Logan woke up. His eyelids sluggishly fluttered open, showing off his tired brown eyes. He was about to stretch when he felt a heavy weight to his right side and turned his head to look. Carlos was fully leaning on him, hugging his knees tightly to his chest, mouth half open while he quietly snored. His shoulders began quivering and he scrunched his eyebrows together. The corners of Logan's lips partially twitched—Carlos always looked angelic, even when he was committing trouble, and sometimes he just tried too hard to keep his carnal intentions hidden.

Carefully, he slid off the couch, putting a cushion in place of his shoulder so Carlos wouldn't wake. Moments after stretching he looked around and processed that it was mysteriously silent. There were no sounds of Barracuda Man Spray being excessively sprayed onto hair nor scheming whispers.

Starting to pace around the room, Logan murmured to himself, "No one is here…" A crooked smiled formed upon his face.

He went to the kitchen. No Kendall. He entered the bathroom. No James. He searched the whole apartment. No one. The only two people occupying it at the time was him and a snoring Carlos. It couldn't be real, could it? There must have been some sort of emergency while they were asleep, and so that's why the others were gone. Only, he would have been informed about it in the first place, since most of the emergencies that happened, frankly often, were solved with his brains and Kendall's leadership skills.

"Mmm… More, give me more. It feels t-to good…ah…" Carlos spoke in his sleep, stirring around on the couch.

Logan looked at him while pacing, partially hypnotized as the sleeping boy smacked his lips and buried his head in his arms, making the cushion fall to the floor. Even though the sound of the item falling to the floor was too quiet to even be heard at a library, it made Carlos' eyes gently open, blinking sleepily as he stretched and cracked his neck. Covering his mouth, he yawned deeply. All of a sudden, he stopped and backed up on the couch, his face white. Logan halted.

"Is…something wrong?" he asked, puckering his lips as colour returned to the surprised boy's face.

"I had _the_ freakiest dream," Carlos managed to choke out, grabbing his helmet out of nowhere and putting on, his fingers unsteadily sliding over the strap as he buckled it around his chin.

"And?" Logan pushed, sitting down on the couch while he looked at his friend patiently.

"I-I can't… Okay, I was dreaming about the date I had with Stephanie." Logan tensed. "Instead of going to the movies, we went in a dark alleyway. I-I saw you there…making out with Camille, and I felt extremely _weird!_ Maybe I shouldn't say anymore…"

"No, please continue!" Logan blurted out. The tensing in his shoulders had ceased; he had a _very_ good feeling about this.

Carlos looked at him from the corner of his eye, as if deciding to agree with Logan's words or not. Finally, he continued, "I think I felt jealous…so I pushed Camille out of the way and I started making out with you. It was funny when she vanished because her face turned into Steve's from Blue's Clues." He wrinkled his nose, snickering a little. "The _weird_ part was when you shoved me to a wall, and I could actually feel your lips on mine, and your hand was sliding up and down under my shirt. It felt good and I began to wrap my legs around you."

"That's it?" Logan inquired, feeling his jeans go tight. Carlos' dream was slightly turning him on, and he disapproved of that.

"No! The alley disappeared and we were all covered in snow. Our mouths froze together and it started to hurt _really_ badly. I also started to feel uncomfortable because your tongue was stuck in my mouth and I wasn't able to move _my_ tongue. Your hands were also frozen under my shirt, so it was so cold!" He said it so easily, as if telling a story. Carlos frowned. "Then Stephanie poofed in, got mad and stabbed you with an ax."

"What!" Logan's jaw dropped open. That sure was a turn-around and the bulge in his jeans disappeared almost instantly. Cold sweat formed on the back of his neck.

Carlos put a hand to his chin, trying to pull off a thinking face similar to Steve's. "Or was it a butcher knife…? Yep, it was a butcher knife! She cut off your arm and both your legs."

"A butcher knife? My arm, my legs?" Logan rubbed his head, kind of creeped out. Carlos' dream was kinky at first, but then he gets killed? What is up with that? He decided to change the conversation. "Was the kiss…good?"

A light pink tainted Carlos' cheeks. "Kind of. It didn't last long."

"So you don't remember?" Logan asked, scooting closer to the raven.

"No," the boy answered, looking away.

"Well then, let me jog your memory," Logan said as he leaned in, grabbed Carlos' chin, and gently placed a kiss over his lips.

Carlos went still. He let Logan's lips softly brush against his, kissing him again. Meanwhile, the fair-skinned boy snaked his hand behind Carlos' head and pulled it closer to his while his other hand rested on the seat of the sofa. This brought the effect of making his body fall over and land on top of Carlos'. Carlos blushed again, feeling Logan's legs straddle his waist and one of his hands unbuckle his helmet to have it thrown across the room. The hair on his head was pulled as his lips kept being abused. Logan's kisses had become rough now and the raven had barely any oxygen left in him; breathing subconsciously through his nose wasn't enough. He flinched as he felt his left ear being bit, probably swollen now because Logan sure had dug his teeth in deep.

"Wait, dude, stop this," Carlos said in shaky voice. "I don't think Stephanie–"

"Stephanie this, Stephanie that," Logan interrupted while planting butterfly kisses on Carlos' neck. "Can't you shut up about her for _once?_ I love you, Carlos, and you're too blind to see that. I want to show my affection to you by doing this; it'll be nice if you don't talk about that female mutt. It'll be better if you don't talk at all…"

"You love me?" Carlos asked, inhaling deeply.

Logan ignored him and placed his lips back against the raven's, forcing his tongue inside. He hadn't imagined how warm Carlos' mouth would be, and how sweet, too. It felt like drinking hot chocolate with marshmallows, except for the tongue burn and the warm, fuzzy feeling in the stomach one gets when drinking the beverage. All in all, he loved it. Carlos didn't struggle at all below him, and it was quite bizarre, but he learned not mess with miracles; everything could change in a second and he'd never get an opportunity like this ever again. He let his lips trickle tenderly down the caramel jaw, his neck, collarbone and was stopped at the clothed chest. Logan paused to think—what would he do if Carlos resisted? He hasn't spewed curse words so far after the intimate kisses. Should he continue?

"Logan?" Carlos said, his eyes giving away that he was nervous.

The boy didn't listen, still trying to decide on what to do.

"Logan." Kendall's voice?

"Logan!" James?

Wasn't the place empty? He was pretty sure he'd checked _every_ spot. Had me missed a room? He looked around swiftly, trying to decipher where the voices were coming from. They sounded pretty close but the faces of Kendall and James were nowhere to be seen. Logan heard his name again, this time a little louder, and he turned around to look behind him. Empty, except for the ornaments. He turned back to Carlos whose face was the colour of a ripe tomato.

"Logan, Logan, Logan, Logan, Logan!" Carlos continuously shouted, yet his mouth wasn't moving.

Suddenly, the boy felt a sharp sting on his cheek. He sat up straight on the couch and opened his eyes to find a worried Kendall, a confused James, and a grinning Carlos, all staring at him.

"Huh? What? Ow, my cheek…" Logan said, rubbing his reddened cheek. He looked up at the bunch, especially at the raven who had an innocent look plastered on his face.

"You've been asleep for five hours. It's already eleven," Kendall said.

"And you were moaning in your sleep…" said James, a little disturbed.

"So I slapped you!" Carlos finished, still grinning as if slapping one of his best friends on the face was something to be proud of.

"I was asleep…for five hours?" Logan repeated, trying to process the foreign words. Then that meant that…him kissing and confessing to Carlos…it had all been a dream? He sat there, dumbfounded. "I need an aspirin," he mumbled as he opened the front door and ran out.

"Where's he going?" Katie questioned, popping up from behind the couch.

Her and Mrs. Knight had arrived three hours ago. Mrs. Knight had been so tired after her crazy shopping spree that she had literally fallen on the floor in the hallway. Carlos had woken up by the thud and both him and James, plus Katie had to lift her up and bring her to her room.

"Logan! The aspirin's in the kitchen—not outside!" Carlos called, running after him.

Kendall rolled his eyes and followed the raven, watching as he tripped. He gave a signal with his hand for Carlos to stop and return back inside. Frowning, Carlos obeyed. The blonde sighed as he exited the building and sprinted in a straight line. He knew exactly where Logan had gone.

**ooo**

Logan stayed silent for a while, curled up behind one of the park's trees. The night was quiet; in a way, it could have created the illusion that he was slowly approaching death. The moon was fading to a pitch black, which caused milky-white shadows to move on his pale face. Heavy tears filled his eyes, burning his pupils as they turned blood-red. How foolish was he to think that Carlos would immediately like him. It was a stupid dream; an ignorant wish. He absolutely desired to die at the moment—for all of his heart-aching feelings to flow away in an instant. Unless he had a pistol, he'd have to settle with suffocating himself.

He pressed the palms of his hands to his face, feeling the oxygen depleting from his lungs, and his heart beginning to lose pulse. The only thing that could probably make his death into a lighter state would be if Carlos would find him in his last breath, and he could die peacefully, knowing that he'd be in his arms. Instead he got a familiar touch to his hands as they were forcibly brought down, and a huge gust of air rushed into his mouth and nose. Then the anticipated shout boomed in his ears.

"Where you trying to kill yourself?" Kendall screamed, gripping Logan's wrists and pinning them to the sharp bark of the tree.

"Is it obvious?" Logan said sarcastically. "Suicide is the common answer when confronting basic human problems."

Kendall let go of Logan and smacked the side of his head furiously. "You're acting stupid. Did something happen that upset you so much _this_ time?"

Logan didn't respond. Rather, he asked an off-topic question, "Where'd you go?"

The blonde scratched his head. He knew that when Logan changed the subject he didn't want to talk about his problems no more. Technically, the boy wasn't avoiding help but he didn't need it either. Logan's depressions would come and go. "Had a date with Jo, it was awesome. For once she agreed to play hockey with me. Too bad I beat her big time and she chased me with a hockey stick," he replied, smiling.

"Sounds delightful," Logan muttered, rubbing his temples.

He remembered when Camille had asked him to go on a date with him, and he had refused. An hour later he had an unforeseen blackout and woke up inside a dark closet. Camille had had a flashlight below her face, assuming she was a _bit_ demented, and smiled wide. She had tied him up to a chair with transparent duct tape and violently smooched him, covering his entire face with ruby lipstick. A nightmare come true.

_Crack_. The sound cut off Logan's animated visualization of horror, and his ears pricked, as did Kendall's. Something was abroad the bushes. _Crack_. Something heavy. _Crack_. 'Something' was coming closer.

Kendall cocked an eyebrow. "Carlos?" he called out to the darkness. He figured the rebellious boy must have followed him, and then hidden somewhere to scare the living daylights out of them after. Weirdly, there was no answer.

"Carlos?" the blonde called out again, his voice slightly strained.

From the dark shadows, he spotted a hand reaching towards Logan's neck. Then a face of pure malice appeared and pulled Logan back, holding a thick, sharp knife to his throat. Logan's eyes went wide as he felt the dagger's jagged teeth press lightly against the skin of his throat. The anonymous person's mouth looked to move in slow motion, though the words that came out were vaguely heard.

Kendall shook his head, feeling his body begin to tremble gravely. "Huh?" he said dryly.

"Give me all your money if you don't want your friend dead," the low voice threatened.

* * *

**A/N:** Ah, don't kill me! I'm an angst-addict, sorry.

-curls up in corner- Did ya'll like it?


	3. Inception Spark

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Big Time Rush.

**Warning: **Logan/Carlos. (Italics = Flashback)

**Three – Inception Spark**

"I don't have any money," Kendall lied, keeping a steady eye on the intimidating weapon.

"What'd you got?" the attacker persuaded, pressing the tip of the knife further, drawing blood.

"Kendall," Logan mouthed. He was afraid that if he actually talked he'd become headless in less than a second.

The blonde gave him an intense stare, telling him soundlessly to stay still and not do anything risky. The attacker cocked his head, and a black short strap clung from what looked to be his ear. Kendall squinted his eyes, making further progress to identify where it was coming from. Then he saw it. The face that seemed all too fake, its wrinkles looking like cheap rubber and the one detail that gave it away—the white shine that was glinting off hard, rounded plastic. Kendall breathed through his nostrils, feeling anger build up inside him.

"Dammit, Carlos, take off that stupid mask!" he snapped.

The blonde lunged at the attacker, making the knife fly out of hold and land directly _in_ the ground. Logan scrambled to his knees and stood up, watching in fright as Kendall tackled the anonymous person to the ground and ripped his _face_ off. Under the mask was Carlos' face, a genial, yet unstable, smile forming. At that, Logan went stiff in his spot. Kendall gritted his teeth. It was enough that Logan had been on the verge of achieving suicide and now Carlos was aiming for _homicide?_ It was all out of wack. The only thing left was for James to be an undercover serial killer that goes around cutting the scalp off people and then burning their bodies to ashes. It could be a possible reason since his hair always looked so natural and shiny. Then again, it couldn't.

"'Sup," Carlos said almost casually. He couldn't talk well because Kendall had his elbow on his ribs, giving him a huge ache.

"'Sup," the blonde replied, smiling. Then his bottom lip curled inside and he let out a throaty snarl. "What the _hell_ were you trying to _do?_" he growled, digging his elbow deep into his friend's ribs, making him cough.

Kendall loved Carlos—very much, to say the least—but once in a while he would just go over the edge and not care about who gets hurt. That was a few of Carlos' flaws. He was positively wild, uncontrollable, and occasionally, clueless. He wasn't always the angel Logan thought he was. He hated admitting this, but most of the time Logan was too obtuse to see that inside Carlos there was something profoundly dangerous. Even if he did knew he would still forgive him. 'Love is blind', was the saying and Kendall agreed with it a hundred percent.

"I'm sure there's a logical explanation for this," Logan said.

There. That was enough proof that he wasn't mad at Carlos, who _almost_ had the chance to slash him from life. Kendall took a deep breath and let the anger settle in him. As it did, he removed his elbow from Carlos' ribs and helped him stand up, gripping his hand forcefully as he too stood up. Carlos' face twisted into discomfort while Kendall kept gripping his wrist tightly. Kendall glared at him and let loose as Logan stepped in between them. The blonde's storming green eyes were enough to hint that _he_ was about to execute murder.

"Okay, Carlos, what's up with you? Did someone put you up to this? Did you intentionally want to kill Logan?" Kendall enquired between gritted teeth and clenched fists.

The last accusation made Logan flinch. He looked over at Carlos who had his head bowed down, twiddling his fingers in the shyest way. Continuing to stare at the ground, the raven bent over and pulled out the knife from the grass. He shook it rapidly, slapping it against his hand continuously. Blood started coming out of it while Kendall and Logan looked at it with wide eyes. Carlos kept shaking the silver item until it broke in two and blood spurted out.

He giggled as his face got covered with blood. "It's Prank Day, morons. This is my newest creation—a fake knife. It's made out of plastic and when you press it to something it releases fake blood. Pretty cool, huh?" He laughed.

Prank Day was a made-up holiday. Every year, Carlos would pick a random day and a random person to victimize, and think up the most creative ways to make the person suffer.

Logan's mouth opened a bit. He wiped the blood off his throat; there was no cut. He blinked several times. "Carlos, what time is it?

The raven looked at his red wristwatch. "Twelve o' one."

The fair-skinned boy touched his throat again. Prank Day? He was Carlos' victim this time? That couldn't mean something, could it? No. Carlos could have picked _anyone_ other than him. It was a spur of the moment decision for the raven, so Logan's facts couldn't be entirely accurate.

"That wasn't funny at all," Kendall spat, still cross.

Carlos shrugged and picked up his mask from the ground, stuffing it into his jeans pocket. He adjusted his helmet and gave a toothy grin at the two.

**ooo**

The morning always bothered them. Especially when the phone rang at seven thirty _in the morning_. Kendall forced himself to get out of bed and enter the living room. The annoying ring kept its constant song and it made the blonde all the more irritable. How was it possible that no one could hear it except _him?_ He felt like grabbing one of Carlos' hammers and smash it to little pieces. Kill it dead, dead, _dead_. He got a spine-chilling kick out of that word and a quick flashback from last night slipped its way into his pounding brain.

_Their footsteps were loud and heavy on the pavement as they headed home. Kendall's eyes kept wandering to Carlos' bloody hands. Out of all the tricks the boy had done this one had been, _by far_, the most scarring. Last Prank Day he'd hidden _all_ of James' hair products. Carlos had been missing the whole day, but Logan had found a note on one of the chocolate pudding cups—__which had been inside the _microwave—_with the raven's messy handwriting scribbled all over the yellow sticky note. They had to solve, in total, thirty riddles to later return and find James' hair products perfectly stacked on the bathroom's porcelain sink as they once had been. When Carlos finally appeared, he acted as if he knew nothing of the false scavenger hunt._

_"Yo, Logan, you sure you're okay with this?" Kendall said to him, low enough for Carlos not hear._

_Logan hadn't spoken ever since they started walking home. His eyes were glazed—as if trying to differentiate the subatomic particles in the air—and his face was impassive. It wasn't until they had reached the front door outside of the apartment did he give a hint that he hadn't turned into a zombie._

_"You go ahead, Carlos." Logan forced a smile, almost pushing the boy inside, as if he was in a hurry. As soon as the door closed, Logan grabbed Kendall's arm and pulled him into a nearby supply closet. "I need your help," he said with a wavering breath._

_"With what?" Kendall wondered, trying not to crack a smile as Logan's cheeks turned from ivory to the colour of a blooming red rose._

_"How can I stop Carlos?" His face looked desperate._

_Kendall rose an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"_

_"I'm his…target for this 'Prank Day'." He put air quotes around the last two words._

_Logan didn't favour this peculiar 'holiday'. None of them did. Carlos would recklessly and spontaneously ambush whatever victim he had chosen at unpredictable times—either the pranks would be harmless or the cause for misfortune. However, Logan had his worries doubled. Anything the raven might do could set off Logan's feelings into fast-forward metamorphosis mode and he could erupt in front of him. He didn't even want to think about what else could happen. Kendall knew all of this, of course—he could read the boy's mind with his hands tied behind his back and blindfolded. It's not that Logan didn't trust James to tell him also, but he wasn't comfortable either. He didn't want the situation to get even more hazardous._

_Kendall put his thumb to his chin, trying to think of a plan that would be of benefit. "I need to make a call." After entering the apartment, he searched for the living room phone and dialed a number. "Tarantula's Place? I need a present delivery of two females right away, please. Thank you."_

"Kendall, James, Carlos, Logan, it's Kelly," the voicemail answered. Kendall was _way_ too fatigued to pick up the phone. He kept on low alert, though, maintaining his ears awake so he could hear the message. "Gustavo wanted to let you boys know that you won't be needing to come to the studio today. There's a…huge multiplying fracas, and so it's off-limits for the whole week." There was a pause, and Kendall could faintly distinct Gustavo's voice in the background. "Return by next Wednesday at four o' clock sharp," Kelly concluded.

Right after the ending beep, the blonde's eyebrows had gone up. The plan had actually worked. Now all there was left was to announce the special surprise. He jumped a little when the bedroom doors opened and Logan, James and Carlos poured out, grunting. Their legs wobbled and their arms hanged lifelessly to their sides.

"Morning," Kendall said, watching as all of them immediately fell on the floor, except for James who had already gone to the bathroom to fix his morning hair.

"Get off me, Logan," Carlos mumbled.

"Did you say something?" Logan muttered, burying his face on Carlos' limp back.

After the incident from yesterday, and arriving at twelve thirty in the morning, they had all crashed as soon as they were near bed reach. Kendall groaned and helped Logan and Carlos stand up. Twenty terrible minutes later—dealing with bathroom hogging and long showers—they were all gathered around the table, eating the breakfast that Mrs. Knight had prepared for them.

Kendall stopped in mid of his pancake. "Guys, I have two announcements. One, Kelly left a message and said that we're not going to the studio for a whole week." He paused to let them cheer. "Two, we're gonna have a competition. A super soaker competition."

"Can I join?" Katie asked, a mischievous grin forming on her face.

"Sorry, little sis. No can do," Kendall replied, patting her head. She pouted and munched on her food.

"What does the winner get?" Carlos demanded, stuffing his whole breakfast in his mouth all at once.

"These." The blonde held up two tickets. "Toronto Maple Leafs versus Detroit Red Wings at the Air Canada Centre. Front. Row. Seats. They're playing this Friday at five."

"No way!" Carlos exclaimed, reaching out to grab the tickets, only to fail as Kendall held them out of his reach.

"How'd you get them?" James asked, his eyes sparkling.

"I know a guy," Kendall exaggerated.

In reality, he had saved enough money over two months ago for the tickets and a flight. He'd planned to take Jo—after he could pull off a sneaky escape from Gustavo and Griffin. That failed miserably yesterday when she had whacked him on the head with a hockey puck.

"Pfft, yeah, right," James said as he took a swig of his orange juice.

Kendall rolled his eyes, ignoring the brunette. Carlos looked like he was about to fall off his chair as he kept stuffing his mouth—his cheeks looked like two pairs of puffer fish without all the spikes. Logan smiled under the bacon strip that was sliding smoothly against his lips. After what seemed forever, the boys were dressed in their trunks, giant super soakers gripped in their hands as they crawled separately around the swimming pool area. Kendall was behind a chair, Logan was hiding behind thick bushes, and James was behind the open front doors. Carlos was nowhere to be found.

"Come on, James. Come out, come out, wherever you are," Kendall sang. He felt something tap his back; in effect, he turned around and squirted the person. "Take that!" he bellowed. When he opened his eyes he saw Jo, soaked wet and face serious with squinted eyes. "Jo! I'm sorry, we're–"

"Save your breath, I'll tell you later," she said nonchalantly, disappearing inside the Palm Woods building.

"Damn," Kendall complained under his breath. Minutes later he felt another tap on his back and turned around. He figured it was Jo again to probably thump him upside the head. Instead it was James. "No!" Water spilled everywhere as both boys shot each other with the super soakers. "You're out, James!" Kendall shouted as his eyes began to burn from the heavy liquid, air and dust.

"So are you!" James retorted, dodging the water that was aimed at his hair and ended up on his face.

In the midst of it all, Logan kept a hawk eye, scanning the area so he could terminate the raven. Carlos was a good hider when it came to war games, but that wouldn't keep Logan Mitchell from loosing. He had to win this. _Had_ to if he didn't want Carlos shoving pranks up his face for the rest of the day. He heard steps to the far right and in panic, shot water arbitrarily. His eyes went wide as he saw that he'd sprayed Stephanie all over. A mighty pang on the chest let Logan know that he felt guilty—yet _satisfied_. The girl looked around her, puzzled, trying to determine where the water had come from, but Logan was too well hidden in the bushes to be found out.

He continued to browse the place and, strangely, he spotted something dark on the surface of the pool amongst all the swimming people. The thing rose, revealing a lurking Carlos, his once spiked up hair plastered down. He did a three-sixty turn—probably afraid that someone might sneak up on him—and ran behind the building. He passed the corner and disappeared, leaving wet footprints on the ground. Taking a deep breath, Logan followed the trail. Once he reached the intersection he spotted Carlos pumping his super soaker. Logan watched in dread. He wanted to jump the boy right there and then. Instead, he decided to go for something simpler.

Leisurely, Logan tiptoed towards Carlos, and abruptly smashed the palm of his left hand on the wall, blocking the escape to the pool area. Carlos turned around, slamming his back against the wall. He caught his breath in his throat, causing him to choke. At the same time, his super soaker dropped from his grip and landed blatantly on the ground. Suddenly, all seemed to move at a slow pace in Carlos' vision as Logan's smirking face leaned in. His lips were soft against the raven's. Carlos' eyes grew immensely wide.

His thoughts sparked. "Was Logan…?"

He couldn't finish the confounding mental sentence because his mind had already begun to dysfunction in the process.

* * *

**A/N:** This chapter was a bit confusing; I apologize, it'll all clear up on the next one. Also for the hockey ticket terms—since they're probably not right…

I tried my best, haha.


	4. Suitcases

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Big Time Rush.

**Warning: **Logan/Carlos. (Italics = Flashback)

**Four – Suitcases**

One second went by. Both their lips were warm as the kiss continued. Two seconds. Carlos began nudging. Three seconds. Logan withdrew. Four seconds. Nothing happened for a while. Carlos didn't say anything. Reason not being because of the spontaneous kiss, but because while he had been distracted with the lip lock, the fair-skinned boy had taken the liberty to shoot him with the super soaker. Carlos' tanned chest was now wet, tepid droplets of water sliding down his caramel skin slowly. He was in sheer shock that not even the fact that Logan had just kissed him could bring him to his right senses. Yet, for a second, the raven touched his lips as they began trembling lightly. It only lasted for a second, though, and he returned back to the temporary state of disturbance.

Logan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he watched Carlos with suppressed bawdy hunger. "I win," he said indifferently, turning around to head back to Kendall and James.

He took a few hurried steps before Carlos jumped on him out of the blue. Logan's forehead came in contact with the ground intensely as his knees and chest were scraped. An emphatic cry formed in his throat as the scrapes began to bleed, but he overcame it. Carlos crawled on top of him and shot a blast full of water on the back of Logan's head. As Carlos concluded his revenge, he stood up and stuck his tongue out at his friend. Logan groaned. Feeling the raven's chest on his back had electrified his hormones, and the sting on his peeled skin was only making it worse.

**ooo**

"But it's not fair! I shot him, too, so I'm supposed to win, also!" Carlos whined.

After letting Mrs. Knight treat Logan's wounds, the boys were now sitting on lounge chairs, trying to get the sticky water out of their bodies. It was a hot day at the Palm Woods, and so half of the residents were inside with the cool air, and the others were outside—either tanning or swimming. Carlos pouted at Kendall, who refused to accept his words.

"Sorry, Carlos, Logan shot you first—fair and square," Kendall said. This was the third time the raven had complained, and Kendall felt involuntary spasms in his arm threatening to slap his friend silly on the side of his head.

"You don't have any proof!" Carlos contradicted, gripping the lounge chair's metal bars.

"Do you really want a ticket?" Logan acknowledged, waving one of the white laminated tickets in front of his face. Carlos shook his head furiously, which made the water droplets on his hair scatter on Logan's face. "You have to promise me one thing."

"What? What! Anything! I'll promise anything! Please, please, please, please, please, please–"

"You have to promise that you won't prank me for the rest of the day. Got it?" Logan said, a solemn mask hovering heavily over his worried expression.

This was the last part of the plan that Kendall had come up with. If this didn't work he would have to go in hiding for the rest of the damn day. And he _positively_ did _not_ want to do that. The chances, calculated in his mind, were one and a half. Similar to one flip of a quarter; either it lands on heads or tails. It was high, yes, but not precise. Carlos was unpredictable at most times. A look of disappointment crossed over the raven's face before it was replaced by confusion. He went through a series of expressions in twenty seconds before he settled with a blank face. Then the corners of his lips turned upward slightly, and he practically forced himself to nod.

"Got it," he answered as his fake smile improved.

"Are you sure?" Logan interrogated.

"Yep!" Carlos grinned.

"Look at me in the eyes, Carlos," Logan said.

Slowly, Carlos' brown eyes connected with his. Though Logan knew Carlos was sincerely complying to his endless questioning, he still felt the urge to stare at those alluring pupils for more than two practical seconds, having the chance of not being accused of weirdly staring. Carlos blinked. It felt like a staring contest, and Logan would have won already. Too bad it wasn't. More than fifteen seconds had already passed, and Carlos cocked his head to the side.

"Logan," he said, waving his hand in front of his friend's face.

Logan was in a trance at the moment—he couldn't hear or see anything but Carlos. He loved the way the raven said his name, a worried tone with a hint of agitation. Carlos' lips frowned, and a deep crease formed on his forehead. Time seemed to cease in Logan's mind, because when James knocked on his head the fair-skinned boy didn't move. Again, James hit his head, this time with added force.

"Ah!" The dreaming boy repelled, the throbbing pain spreading in his head, giving him a headache. "Wha– Who–"

"Dude, you spaced out," James said as he sprayed Barracuda Man Spray all over his body.

Just then, Camille came over and grabbed Logan by the hair. She stared intensely at him and slapped him hard, leaving a fresh red mark on his cheek. "How could you do this to me?" she shouted and slapped him again, then disappeared.

"Trying out for a role again?" Kendall asked out loud, leaning back on his lounge chair.

"Yep!" exclaimed Camille, jumping from behind the boys' chairs. "It's for this new movie called Drive-by Sunset. I'm trying out for the girl who gets dumped by her boyfriend because he cheated on her." Her intensifying stare returned back to Logan, which made him shiver a bit. Then she disappeared again.

Logan liked Camille, as a friend, obviously, but when she was in an emotional rampage to get him to like her he would likely stay as far away from her as possible. For example, the time when she had locked him in the closet and covered his face with sticky kisses, he was lucky enough that she had left for a minute—hell knew why. Right then, he had struggled with taking off the duct tape from his hands, succeeding, and then going for his legs. When Camille had returned, her brain had gone upside down, seeing that the chair was empty. Ever since that day her obsessiveness over Logan had become a _little_ over the top.

"Where's my ticket?" Carlos moaned, his lower lip sticking out.

"Oh, yeah," Logan said, giving one of the tickets to Carlos. The raven's face seemed to turn into a bright lightbulb as his expression sent waves of rich euphoria through the humid air.

The rest of the day went by quite normally, which was a highly mentioned stereotype at the Palm Woods. Most days were like trying to catch an ostrich and stuff its long legs into short skinny jeans. Though the normal stage didn't last long—at least, for Logan. Carlos found Stephanie by the edge of the pool and ran, pushed her in, and them jumped along. Stephanie wasn't mad though, she actually laughed and splashed water on the raven, acting like a little kid—the label Logan had tagged her with.

This went on for fifteen agonizing minutes, and Logan didn't like it one bit. Kendall and James had fallen into a deep sleep, so he decided to mimic them. Only, he had dark sunglasses over his face and created the illusion that he was fully unconscious. Through the layer of dark plastic, his eyes burned with jealousy as Carlos played with _her_. When it was finally over, Logan went inside the building, into apartment 2J and crashed on his bed.

"Logan, are you okay?" Mrs. Knight asked, opening the room door a little. She saw the boy nod and smiled before closing the door.

He sighed and, just as he was beginning to relax, the door opened again. Kendall jumped on his bed and landed with his legs dangling over the edge.

"Carlos was looking for you," the blonde informed.

"Liar," Logan said, sitting up on his bed.

"Yeah. Hey, where's your ticket? You haven't ruined it have you?"

Logan reached into the pocket of his trunks and took out the ticket. "Ruined it? I don't think so. By the way, your craftsmanship skills are suitable. Thanks for helping me, Kendall."

The blonde's face scrunched into a look of puzzlement. "My craftsmanship skills…?"

"Yes. The ticket looks absolutely real; you did a fantastic job on the small details. Did you work on them over night or were they already finished? How many hours did it take you to complete them? I can't imagine. Six, five, two days?"

"Detail? How many hours did it take me to _complete_ them?" Kendall repeated, even more confused.

Logan rose an eyebrow. "Aren't they fake?"

"No! What!" Kendall laughed. "You thought they were _fake?_ Why would I kid about having Toronto and Detroit tickets? Dude, you're slow."

It took five exact seconds for Logan to register all this. "They're…_not_ fake?"

"Of course not!" the blonde said, facepalming.

"What about Carlos'?"

"Not fake."

"You're not serious," Logan disputed, voice choking halfway.

"Why shouldn't I be? That's the whole reason why I sent the tarantulas to Rocque Records, so you guys could go and have fun without being pounded to death by Gustavo!"

"I thought you just wanted the week off!" Logan cried, grabbing a pillow and burying his face on it.

Kendall smirked. "You better get ready, then. Pack up your bags 'cause you're leaving tomorrow for the whole week. I already got the money for the flight. Took some bucks from Gustavo's account so you guys could get a place to stay also," he said, shrugging. Hacking into Gustavo's bank account wasn't really stealing, just _borrowing_. They all needed rest, especially Logan—Kendall could see it on his worn out face—so, technically, he was doing a good deed. Kind of.

"Tomorrow?" Logan shrieked, lowering the pillow, revealing his panic-stricken eyes.

"Yeah, the game is on Friday, so you guys are going to have to arrive early. Come on, Logan, this gives you a chance to hang out with Carlos without worrying about anything else. A wish can happen, but if you don't blow out the candle then it won't come true."

Kendall actually had a point, and to add, he sounded like a true poet. Hockey may not be romantic, but he will get to spend a whole week—as Kendall had mentioned—with Carlos. For once he felt the queasy feeling in his stomach—the one a person gets when they fall in love. He imagined pathetic stuff such as the old common trick of sticking your hand inside the popcorn, only to have it intertwined with your loved one's. A blush crept up his face, and he buried it again in the pillow.

"Want me to help you pack?" Kendall offered, noticing that his friend looked as if he was about to faint.

"No, I'm good," Logan answered, removing the pillow from his face and throwing it on the floor.

"Okay. If you need me I'll be at the pool apologizing to Jo." And with that sentence Kendall closed the door, leaving his friend in the dim light.

Once he felt there weren't going to be anymore interruptions, Logan sighed and took out his suitcase from the closet. He proceeded to take out his clothes out of the drawers, one item at a time, neatly folding them so they could all fit in the suitcase space. When he reached the bottom drawer and stuck his hand inside he immediately felt something cold. He opened the drawer to its full extent. Inside there was a tiny square frame coloured silver with hockey pucks, sticks, and nets glued to each corner. Turning the frame over, he saw a picture of Carlos and him. They were both smiling, making peace signs with their hands.

_"Feels like I've died and gone to heaven! This carnival rocks!" Carlos yelled in joy._

_Minnesota was having a carnival. It was the first one of the year, though it wasn't ordinary. Every space was taken by huge roller coasters, concession stands, booths, kiddie rides, porta potties, and even a giant light-up ferris wheel. It was around nine, so the thick darkness made the rides' lights flare colourfully like crazy._

_"Let's go on that one!" James pointed at a huge ride that was shaped like a hammer. It was going wildly up and down, and all the people in it were screaming at the top of their lungs or throwing up from motion sickness. He looked at the huge poster by the entrance of the ride. "The Hammer," he read._

_"Alright, looks awesome," Kendall agreed._

_Once they got close, they saw the long line. "We're going to be here 'till midnight," Logan said, crossing his arms over his chest._

_"How'd you know that?" Carlos wondered, finishing his carnival cotton candy. His whole face was covered with it, even his eyebrows were a rich aqua blue._

_"Read the sign," Logan answered, aiming his chin at a tall sign that was next to a lady. In big, bold, red letters were the exact same words that he had said. "Besides, this ride seems too risky. How about we get on a roller coaster instead? You can actually let your stomach rest on the top instead of letting it roll around."_

_"Or the photo booth!" Carlos shouted. "We can take cool pictures and make scary faces." The boys didn't answer. "All in favour say I?" he said, raising his hand halfway and giving a sheepish grin._

_"I," Logan concurred and raised his hand._

_"That settles it. James and I go to The Hammer, and you and Carlos go take pictures," Kendall decided._

_"You sure you don't want to come, James?" the raven lured smugly. He knew how much James loved to take pictures of himself, especially if he was dressed up._

_"As tempting as that sounds… No," James commented while his shoulders started to visibly shake._

_"Come on, Logan!" Carlos howled, grabbing his friend's wrist and dragging him towards the photo booth. He pulled on the red curtain, almost ripping it, and sat on the small seat, making room for his fair-skinned friend. "Do you have a dollar?"_

_"Yeah," Logan responded._

_Once the money was inserted in the machine they made themselves comfortable in the tiny seat. They smiled and a white flash crossed their vision, making them partially blind. Towards the ending of the picture taking, Carlos' smiles had transformed from quirky to diabolical. When the second to last picture was taken, the screen showed Carlos kissing his friend's cheek. Logan's mouth was open in surprise, his eyes wide and face the colour of a cherry. The last picture resulted with both of them making peace signs._

Logan gave a crooked smile. That kiss was the thing that had started all of this mess. His emotional mess. Gently, he set the picture on top of his packed clothes. Before he knew it, time had slipped from his hands. He looked at the clock—eight forty-five. The suitcase was zipped up, put on a corner by his bed, and he slipped out of the room. He turned around and saw Kendall, a frown ruining his face, as James and Carlos screamed at each other, fighting for the remote control that looked more like a game of tug-of-war.

"Give me it, Carlos!" James yelled.

"No! I want to watch The Backyardigans!" Carlos yelled louder.

"Hand over the remote control," Mrs. Knight ordered, stretching her hand out.

The brunette and the raven both had devastated faces. "But–"

"Now." The remote control was given to her.

"Thanks, mom," Kendall mouthed, rubbing his temples.

Seeming as no one had noticed him, Logan took the opportunity to slip in James and Carlos' room. He closed the door as quietly as he could. By Carlos' bed he spotted a dark red suitcase, sloppily left on the ground. Making sure no one would come in, Logan turned on the light and walked towards the suitcase, opening it. Inside, surprisingly, was a neat stack of clothes. Kendall must have helped Carlos with the packing. He searched further, yet found nothing. That is, until he hit jackpot _way_ under the corner of the socks. Logan took out the foreign item and gasped when he laid eyes on it.

_"Oh, let's go to that one! Hey, hey, Logan, I want that. The monkey!" Carlos babbled, flailing his arms like crazy._

_"Knock down the pins, then," Logan replied, fidgeting. After the photo booth incident he'd become a little less comfortable around the raven. James and Kendall weren't back from their hammer ride so he had trouble being upright._

_"Um, I have bad hand-eye coordination," the raven muttered._

_"No, you don't," Logan corrected._

_"Well, don't you remember what happened last year? They said that if it happened one more time, I'd get banned and I think they still remember me," Carlos whispered frantically._

_It occurred on the previous carnival. While playing the same game of now, trying to win a huge plush rhinoceros, Carlos had knocked down all three pins. The ball hadn't stopped bouncing though, and it had created a hideous chain reaction. It had bounced out of the booth, and rolled on the concrete. A person carrying a huge bucket of some kind of hot liquid had tripped on it. The bucket had flown into the air and ended up on the main electrical wires of a huge roller coaster, along with the person._

_At the time, the roller coaster was on its way of doing a loop-de-loop. Unfortunately, one of the passenger's seatbelt had ripped, causing the person to fall off and land on a nearby bouncy house. The bouncy house had been punctured, evoking it to deflate and trap about twelve kids. In total, one person had been electrocuted, another almost died and twelve children passed out and were sent to the hospital. Luckily, _after all that_, Carlos had still been allowed back to the carnival. There was no police call—only a _very_ menacing warning._

_Logan grimaced. "Yeah. Okay, hey, mister, give me a ball."_

_He handed the man in the booth a dollar bill in trade for three bouncy balls. Logan aimed by using the laws of physics, threw the ball, and missed. Carlos grumbled under his breath as the ball hit one of the stuffed animals._

_"Don't complain, I'm doing this for you," Logan said, feeling strange after the last sentence left his mouth. He brushed it off and rolled his shoulders and neck, preparing for the second throw. "Calculate the angle… Check. Speed… Check. Distance… Check," he murmured to himself, gripping the red ball tightly._

_With a swift movement of the wrist, the ball dashed straight and knocked the pins down, plus the monkey that had previously been hanging by a hook, landing perfectly on Carlos' hands. The worker in the booth looked at Logan with incredible eyes. Carlos smiled and squeezed the monkey in a loving hug, thanking Logan._

He stroked the soft fur of the small plush. It was dismaying, well, because Carlos had received the monkey when they were barely thirteen years old, and Logan figured that by now the plush would have been left in a random place and forgotten. He gulped down an emotional lump in his throat, and put the toy back in the suitcase. He got out of the room—shouting goodnight to the others but getting no reply—as he returned to his room. His heart was rapidly beating as he crawled under his comforter. He felt like there was nothing else to do besides sleep. Tomorrow he was going to board a flight with Carlos to Canada. And they were going to stay there for a whole dicey week.

That was enough reason to make Logan's breathing quicken a bit as he laid his head on the pillow, with James and Carlos' ruckus still going on in the living room.

* * *

**A/N:** I've always wanted to go to Canada—no idea why… Damn Logan and Carlos, lucky bastards, haha.


	5. Antipathy's Arrival

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Big Time Rush.

**Warning: **Contains jealousy, cigarettes/smoking. Logan/Carlos. (Italics = Flashback)

**Five – Antipathy's Arrival**

The airport was cool, spacy and _noisy_. Logan tried to tune out the sounds, but it didn't help much because every time a woman would scream at him and Carlos, asking if they have seen her child, or a rambunctious little kid would kick them from behind. Most irritable of all, everywhere Logan looked around there would be a teenage girl, looking at him or Carlos with a glint in her eye. At one point, a blonde girl who, truthfully, had a slutty attire, came onto the fair-skinned boy. She sat next to him, crossed her legs so her part of her upper thighs would show, making her skirt ride up. Her tight tank top was completely revealing, showing _too much_ cleavage.

"Hi, I'm Clarisse," the girl greeted, batting her thickly mascara-covered eyelashes.

"I'm Logan," he answered, awkwardly smiling. Even though the girl made him grimace on the inside, he was still obligated to be polite on the conversational side. He decided to speed up the talk, hoping she might leave. "Do you need help with so–"

"And I'm Carlos!" the raven blurted out.

At that, Logan elbowed his friend on the ribs and Carlos immediately shut his mouth. Logan was _not_ fond of girls coming onto Carlos. For every girl that would stare at the raven with a look of desire, Logan would award her with a noxious glare. The girl would flee before getting a chance to say hello. Carlos didn't notice, though; he was too busy staring into space most of the time. Meanwhile, Clarisse had ignored the raven, which was rude, but Logan didn't mind. If she didn't talk to or sit next to Carlos, his thoughts were clear of all deadly plots.

"Do you, by any chance, know where the restroom is?" Clarisse asked, smiling.

Two huge dimples formed on her cheeks and it reminded Logan of Kendall. "Over there." He pointed at a corner where there were two doors.

A disappointed look crossed the girl's face; she probably thought that Logan would have ignored her stupid question and talked to her about favourites instead. "Th-thanks…" She stood up and walked away towards another hall.

Once she disappeared around the corner, Carlos spoke up, "She was hot."

There was an invigorating hit in Logan's head as he turned to look at Carlos with an atrocious expression. Quickly realizing this, Logan erased it and replaced it with an impassive look. "She overly exposed herself."

"I liked that about her," Carlos admitted, grinning.

However, as he said this, a light pink colour tainted his caramel cheeks. Logan raised an eyebrow and Carlos' cheeks got hotter. He picked up his helmet from his lap and put it on his head, buckling it tightly. Logan chuckled as Carlos began fidgeting on his seat. It wasn't corrupt to think about it, but he loved it when the raven got nervous. The helmet would ruin his image, but his face would still look adorable with its pursed lips, puffy pink cheeks and blinking eyes. Logan smiled at Carlos and put a hand on his shoulder while he gave him a remitting look. Carlos' cheeks continued to flush down to the colour crimson.

As he was busy psychologically aiding his best friend, Logan suddenly felt a hand crawl up _his_ shoulder. He turned his neck back and saw a boy. Letting go of Carlos' shoulder, he slapped the hand away and stared at the person. The boy grinned, and his eyes seemed to be looking at Carlos' direction. Logan turned back to look at his friend and saw the boy's hand was on Carlos' shoulder, but the raven was too busy blushing like hell to even recognize the fingers tapping on him.

"What is your problem?" Logan growled, looking at the boy with tense eyes.

"Nothin'," his voice was deep and husky.

"What are you trying to _do?_" Logan couldn't help but let his jealousy leak a little bit.

It was a difficult challenge trying not to look at his best friend with _love-struck_ eyes and kiss him passionately on the lips. The things he could do to him, but he chose not to fantasize for the sake of his sanity. Especially when he had kissed Carlos yesterday. It hurt him a bit that the raven hadn't even complained or stuttered out words about it.

"His face's red as hell! Just wanna make him feel fine," the boy answered as his black eyes froze and removed anything that Logan could use against him.

Carlos gasped and put his hands on his helmet. "Are you _Jesus?_"

The boy opened his mouth and furrowed his eyebrows. Then he closed it again. Logan snickered. He had seen that reaction many times whenever someone talked to Carlos for the first time. The things he would say, besides do, would sometimes affect the person more.

"Uh…no," the boy chuckled, knocking on Carlos' helmet.

Carlos gave him a confused look. "Who are you?"

The person smiled. "Arthur Phillips, but you can call me Eré with a Spanish accent." He winked at Carlos.

Seeing this, Logan clutched his jeans. This was _way_ worse than a girl coming onto Carlos. "Well, _Arthur_, do you need something? Directions? To the restroom?" He figured that if it worked with Clarisse, then it would work with this _rebel_.

Yes, _rebel_. By the way he dressed and looked, one might assume he was an ex-criminal that was now on probation. He wore a loose black hoodie, with jeans that were absolutely tight that no human could possibly breathe in, and black tennis shoes.

"S'right," the boy replied, running a hand through his short, brown hair. While he said that, he had been staring at Carlos with none too sinister or wanting eyes—they seemed dead, like a hole in a soul that belonged to the fiery depths of hell.

Logan really detested him, even if he only knew the guy for a few seconds. Carlos, on the other hand, did not. He took off his helmet and stuck his hand inside, taking out his hockey ticket. Arthur's eyes went wide and he jumped over the seats, landing roughly next to Carlos.

"Is that Detroit and Toronto?" he asked, looking at the ticket in awe.

"Uh-huh! Me and Logan are going to the Air Canada Centre to see them play live. It's going to be awesome!"

"What a coinkydink," said Arthur in his husky voice. "I'm going there, too. What seats you got?"

"Front row! If there's a huge fight between the teams I could get hit by a hockey puck in the face!" Carlos exclaimed, drumming his fingers wildly on his helmet.

Arthur laughed. "I got middle's, but I could squeeze in with you and catch the hockey puck for you, alright?"

"No! I want to get a black eye, especially if Pavel Datsyuk throws it. I'll brag about it in James and Kendall's faces."

"James and Kendall?" Arthur's expression turned puzzled.

"They're my best friends. We're in a band—Big Time Rush."

"Big Time Rush? Oh. I've heard of it. Not very popular, eh? I don't see a lot of girls screaming."

"No…but we had a huge concert recently! A-and we got chased by thousands of girls; it was so cool!" Carlos began to bounce on his seat.

"Guess you're still small," Arthur replied, smiling halfway.

"I'm not small!" Carlos cried, looking at the brunette with an abashed look.

"No, I didn't mean that, I meant the band."

Meanwhile, Logan kept quiet. He was furious at the Phillips guy, but he also had to pay attention for the airplane call. If they missed the flight, Kendall's plan would turn into instant rubbish and Carlos wouldn't speak to him for a whole month. But from time to time, he would change his ear station and secretly listen to Carlos and Arthur's conversation. It was awkwardly funny how Arthur was right—they had been in this airport for about three hours and no one has recognized them as the boys from Big Time Rush. He was alright with that, though. Pestering was off-limits, especially with Carlos. He was _very_ possessive of him. It was sort of rude, but he could care less—Carlos was his. In his mind, that is.

"So why are you guys going all the way to _Canada?_ Don't you got those fancy shmancy studio things to do?" Arthur asked, taking out a packet of cigarettes out of his jeans pocket and lighting one with a lighter, sticking it in his mouth.

"We got a vacation," Carlos answered. He didn't even pay attention to the nicotine smoke that wavered over to his face.

Arthur nodded. Logan scoffed silently. Right then the loud speakers of the airport announced that flight one hundred and twenty-seven was ready. Logan immediately shot up and turned his head to Carlos' chattering form.

"Carlos, our flight is here," Logan said, trying to sound as serious as possible.

Arthur looked at Logan and spoke, "Guess that's my flight, too. I'll follow you guys, alright?"

"Okay!" Carlos beamed, clutching his helmet.

Once they were outside, Logan gave his and Carlos' tickets to the flight attendant. The story was quite funny for how they had got a hold of them.

_"Logan! Wake up, you're late and you don't have the plane tickets yet!" Kendall's voice boomed in his ears, blurry and ear-shattering. "Dude! I'm serious, you're gonna miss the damn plane!"_

_Logan grumbled to himself and slothfully draped his legs over his bed, staggering a bit as he stood up. "I'm up…"_

_"Hurry up 'cause Carlos is ready and he's getting impatient."_

_After a lazy shower and change of clothes, Logan entered the living room with his black suitcase rolling in a bumpy manner. Carlos' once frowning face turned bright._

_"My babies are going away! Do you have all you need?" Mrs. Knight asked Logan and Carlos while embracing them in adoring hugs. "Clothes? Toothbrush? Shoes? Shampoo? Money? A place to _stay_?"_

_"Make sure to bring back souvenirs," Katie said, rubbing her hands together._

_"Yes, mom, everything's good. You'll get your souvenirs, Katie," informed Kendall while pushing the two boys out the front door, and continued until they were out in the parking lot._

_There was a huge black limo parked in front of them and Kendall promptly shoved the suitcases in the trunk and pushed Logan and Carlos inside the limo. But before the engine could start, Carlos saw Stephanie walk towards them. A broad, absurd smile formed on his face as he opened the door of the limo and tackled Stephanie to the cement._

_"Ah, Carlos!" she exclaimed, blushing brightly underneath him. "I heard you were leaving for a week… I wanted to say bye."_

_She smiled warmly and Carlos grinned, giving her a tight hug. When they were finally done with their display of affection—which Logan avoided seeing and hearing at all times—Stephanie left and Carlos returned back to the vehicle, his face extremely red in joy. Just then, the door to Logan's side opened and Camille's smiling face popped in. She grabbed Logan by the collar and kissed him passionately. The boy was too shocked and previously angered to try to pull away. Camille let go of him and slammed the door closed, running towards who knows where. Carlos snickered and Logan scowled at him._

_"Wish I had a girlfriend," James mumbled, slumping. Kendall patted him on the back._

_Carlos continued to laugh as the limousine began to drive towards the airport. The way there was atypically enjoyable. Carlos, out of nowhere, had punched Logan's shoulder and yelled out 'punch buggy blue'. Logan quickly picked up on what the raven was doing and punched him back on the shoulder when he had seen a yellow Volkswagen Beetle. At one point, instead of punching Carlos' shoulder, he squeezed it. Carlos had stared at him with a weird look for a second, before he devilishly smiled and tackled Logan to the carpeted floor, which was pretty narrow. Boy, did he love to tackle. After two consecutive hours, they had finally arrived at the airport._

_"Carlos, get your luggage. We need to get the tickets as quickly as possible!" Logan shouted._

_Once they had entered the airport building, they headed for the ticket counter. From all the rugged sprinting, the suitcases had hit almost everything—doors, chairs, potted plants and people—and one of the wheels on Carlos' suitcase almost came off._

_"Ah, excuse me. Do you still have tickets for flight one hundred and twenty-seven? To Canada?" Logan asked, trying to control his wheezing breath._

_"As a matter of fact, yes," the lady answered, smiling at him from behind the desk._

_Logan gave the money to the lady in trade for the two airplane tickets. Carlos sighed in relief and they walked towards the ticket and suitcase check department, according to Kendall's directions. The raven's now broken wheel gave out unpleasant sounds throughout the halls they walked in._

"Follow me to your seats," the flight attendant instructed.

Logan nodded, while Carlos and Arthur were still talking about nonsense. The fair-skinned boy absolutely refused to pick a fight with Arthur for two reasons. One, they were in an airplane and if he would start to punch and kick out of nowhere, he might be kicked out of the plane. While it was flying. Without a parachute. Two, he couldn't afford to let his jealousy take over. Even Carlos would suffer if Logan were to start a riot at any moment.

"Sir, smoking is prohibited," the flight attendant warned Arthur, staring him down.

Arthur raised his eyebrows and stopped in mid of his walk. "I can't?"

"No," the man answered.

Arthur didn't respond; he took out the cigarette from his mouth and put it out, shoving it into his jeans pocket. He let out the last puff of smoke that had been wandering in his mouth as Logan and Carlos sat in their seats, and he sat behind them. Carlos made a face as the flight attendant returned to the front of the plane, and waved his arm to the empty space beside him.

"I wanted the window seat!" he cried to Logan, and pouted.

"Okay," Logan responded as he switched seats with his friend, gaining an elated smile from Carlos. He smiled back.

"And I wanted to sit next to the cute raven," Arthur said, poking his head through the space between Logan and Carlos' seats.

"What? Where?" Carlos questioned, turning his head to and fro, trying to find out who Arthur was talking about.

Logan struggled to stay put, because in reality, he knew that Arthur was talking about Carlos. It was insanely frustrating, actually. He didn't know if the boy was gay and wanted to seduce Carlos then get the chance to fuck him for the likes of it, or if he was just a troublemaker who liked to brainwash people's minds for no apparent reason. All in all, imaginary steam was coming out of Logan's ears and he was just about to explode.

"I think she left," Carlos whispered, still turning his head everywhere.

"Yeah, she did," Arthur said sarcastically and rolled his eyes. "So, Carlitos…" At that, Logan's eye twitched and he looked the other way. Arthur continued, "H–"

"Attention passengers. Remember to buckle your seatbelts, the plane will now take off," the flight attendant announced through the speakers.

The three boys, and all the other passengers, secured their belts. The engine could be heard as the plane started and soon enough they were above the clouds. Carlos gasped in admiration, and put his hand to the window, trying to touch the white clouds—but of course, failed to. As an alternative, he pressed his face against the window and made googly eyes at the sky. Logan could hear the squeaky sound of when Carlos' cheeks would rub against the clear glass.

He tried not to think about it, but not matter what, the vivid images of him straddling Carlos' hips and kissing his neck with light, romantic kisses would just not go away that easily. The sound ceased, but he continued his pretend nap. The plane was quiet; he figured that it would be much louder since it was full of people. It was the opposite, though. The only thing he could hear now was his breathing as his thoughts vanished and he sunk into a deep sleep.

**ooo**

He woke up with a startle. His pupils dilated a bit as they opened. His breath was severely hitched, and his palms were sweating like crazy. Logan grabbed the arm of his seat and calmed his heartbeat. He looked around him; some of the passengers were sleeping, and others were listening to music through headphones or reading a book. He turned his head to his left—Carlos was sleeping, with a trace of a creamy substance that covered his cheeks, chin and nose; it looked like vanilla ice cream. Slowly, Logan turned his head back and lowered himself on his seat. Arthur was sleeping also, an unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth.

Even though he didn't like the guy, Logan decided to reach out and pull out the cigarette from Arthur's mouth and put it next to the empty seat. The look Arthur had given the flight attendant when he was told that smoking was not aloud showed that he had been ready to give the worker a good whack on the face, and _hell_ knew what would happen if he got caught again. Logan rubbed his hands on his jeans, trying to get the nicotine that had sprinkled on his hand off. It didn't work, so he stood up and headed towards the back restroom. Luckily, no one was using it at the moment. He opened the door easily and closed it, beginning to wash his hands with lavender-scented soap thoroughly.

As he finished drying his hands, he turned the knob of the door, but it wouldn't budge. Suddenly, outside, there were high-pitched terrifying shouts and screams. And an unexpected tilt of the plane made Logan fall harshly on the tiled floor.

* * *

**A/N:** I apologize for the late post. By the way, I don't know much about airplanes and airports so, once again, sorry if I got anything wrong!

Sooo, what'd you guys think of Arthur? He was a 'spur of the moment' character, lol.


	6. The Onslaught

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Big Time Rush.

**Warning: **Contains violence, cursing, death. Logan/Carlos. (Italics = Flashback)

**Six – The Onslaught**

The shouts became louder and Logan quickly stood up, locking the door. The plane tilted again, but he had a firm hold on the doorknob, and didn't fall this time. Then the doorknob began rattling brutally. Someone was trying to open the door. Logan's grip on the doorknob became tighter, disallowing the little advantage the anonymous person had. Then someone yelled, and the door was kicked.

"Open the door, son of a bitch! We ain't got all day to ransack this shit!" The abrupt yell belonged to a man.

Logan's eyes grew wide and cold chills ran up his spine as the door kept being pummeled and its knob continued to restlessly rattle. When the door opened, a strong hand yanked him by the collar and dragged him outside. The man pushed him down on a seat next to a little girl whose eyes were welling up with frightened tears. Logan noticed a trickle of blood running down her forehead—she had been slit. His heartbeat stopped as he saw this, and he frantically scanned the area for Carlos. Seconds later he found him. The raven was scowling deeply as a gun was pointed at his head. The man holding the gun had a bulky build, was bald at the head, and had a white, messy beard.

"God, you're one of those damn motherfuckers that can't be tamed, right?" the man spat, gritting his teeth. His hand was slightly shaking and Carlos could feel the heavy vibrations of the gun on his forehead.

"And you're one those dipwads that's too chicken to shoot, right?" the raven countered, smirking.

Logan swallowed and shook his head, hoping he might catch Carlos' eye. He did. For a second, it looked as if the raven was going to ignore him, but lo and behold, his smirk disappeared and he curled up in his seat as the gun was brought down. The man sneered and punched the side of Carlos' stomach, making him cringe. Despite what he had just felt, he didn't scream. Logan let out a breath. He turned his head and saw that Arthur was gone, along with his unlit cigarette. An ear-piercing wail suddenly rang in his ears. The little girl had begun to cry wildly while the blood kept flowing smoothly down her face, making her appearance horrific. She opened her huge eyes, and stared at the man who had harmed Carlos.

"Where's my mommy? Where did you take my mommy?" she sobbed. Half of her pain was from her head gash, and the other was caused by the absence of her mother. "I want my mommy! My head hurts so much; I want it to stop hurting." The blood droplets stained her long, black hair, making it half red with its deadly, vibrant colour. "I want to get out of here, please. Please–"

Before she could finish her plea, the man raised his gun and shot her right in the chest. A choking breath caught in her throat and she started coughing up blood. She took another shot right where her gash was and her eyes rolled inside, out of sight. Her body now lay limp, a pool of blood forming on her clothes and seat. Logan stared in terror. He wanted to look away, but couldn't. The image of the dead, blood-covered little girl scarred his mind to its darkest potential.

He gulped. One trip. Just one trip that he and Carlos were taking to go to Canada to see a harmless little game of hockey, and it ended up turning into a _murder_ spree. His right-brain was racing with worry. Carlos, knowing he was insubordinate, was almost shot—and next time, it w_ould_ happen. His left-brain was thinking up ways on how to trap the terrorists without being slaughtered to death. But his scattered thoughts were restricted by another booming sound in his ear. The flight attendant fell to the floor, lifeless, just like the little girl.

"Anybody else want to taste their fucking medicine?" White-beard said, death wishes in his gaze.

Just then, the plane shifted to the right, making everyone scream. The man groaned. "None of you assholes better try something," he said before heading to the front of the plane. The same words were spoken to the people in the front, but no one dared to answer.

Hastily, Logan got up and sat next to Carlos, where he was still curled up in his seat, head buried in his arms, and his body evidently trembling. Slowly, Logan put his arms around Carlos, which startled him and made him look up. Right then, Logan noticed three things. Carlos' eyes were red. Dried tears stuck to his flushed cheeks, and a huge purple bruise covered his right cheekbone. At most, he looked broken and despondent. It split Logan's heart to see him like this—gravely. The left side of his brain fired up again, thinking of how he could get the damn attacker back. But he knew he couldn't—and if he did, he would become dead meat. Literally.

Carlos struggled under Logan's hug, and finally got loose. At first, Logan's hope sunk, but when he saw Carlos limp to the back and signal for him to come, a sad smile spread across his face and he followed the raven to the back and sat down on the floor, hidden by the seats full of mentally-impaired people. Carlos stood standing, looking down at the floor with dead eyes, and unexpectedly, he put his arm around his stomach and dropped on Logan's lap. He then proceeded to feebly take the fair-skinned boy's arms, and wrap them around himself.

Logan's breathing faltered as Carlos buried his face on his clothed chest. The raven didn't sob out loud, but he did feel wet stains on his T-shirt. He'd only seen Carlos cry a few times in the past. Once, when they were five years old, the raven had fallen from a slide and fell down, breaking his arm in the process. Another time when they were about seven, he was dared to bite on a rock, and broke all his baby teeth. Carlos had to go through a whole year without eating solid foods.

The last time was when they had barely begun high school; a bully in school had told him such revolting words—sentences that could never be taken back, no matter how much time passed. That day Logan had comforted him until it was ten at night, and Carlos had finally fallen asleep, his breath uneven with the few whimpers he had left in him. But this time it was completely different. They were in an airplane with dead people, guns, blood, assassins, and worst of all, fear.

No one knew what was happening. Why did the plane get hijacked? Why are the innocent always the victims? Gently, Logan put a hand on Carlos' hair, petting it lightly as he pulled him closer with his other hand. He also had the urge to break down and cry, but he couldn't. It would mean that he had given up, and he, _absolutely_, would not let that happen. Not if he wanted to survive and prevent more deaths. Gradually, Logan pulled away and lifted Carlos' chin with his index finger. He gave him a reassuring smile and Carlos could see the little optimism his friend had in his eyes.

"Everything…is going to be okay… I promise," Logan whispered. When Carlos didn't respond, he then asked a question about something he had just noticed, "Where's your helmet?"

"They took it," the raven said in a choke, his face falling into a deeper state of depression. "Bastards."

All of a sudden, there was a shout that seemed to come from the front of the airplane. Both Logan and Carlos tensed, and sat on their knees, looking from behind the seats. Through the navy blue curtains, the man who had cursed Logan out came tumbling down on the floor. Then another person came in. Logan's eyes went big and recognized the person as Arthur. His once black hoodie was now maroon from splattered blood.

A lit cigarette was hanging from his mouth and it gave Logan a bit of déjà vu. A gun was in his hand, and suddenly, he looked older—not that Logan knew his real age, but still. The criminal label Logan had given Arthur now was erased and replaced by 'undefined'. A malignant look spread over Arthur's face as he stepped on the man's stomach, and took out a cell phone from his jeans pocket. His spoken words were unheard and the call ended quickly.

Arthur turned his head to the half-opened curtains and shouted, "Cap'ain, you alright?"

There was silence. No one moved. Then a response yell declared, "I am…" And from the speakers came his restrained voice, "Attention passengers… We recently have had an attack in the airplane. I presume that everything is fine now, so please remain calm. We– Oh! Ah! No!" A loud thud was heard over the speakers.

Arthur turned around, but even just a second of letting his guard down gave the man a chance to pounce on him and snatch the gun from his hand. Again, the plane went right then left and it made the two roll on the carpet. At the same time, the dead girl's corpse fell off the chair while Logan and Carlos struggled to grab onto the seats, as did all the passengers—the seatbelts were no help.

Carlos' body trembled as he saw the young dead female's blood spread all over the grey carpet. His eyes shook violently as it reached him and was soaked up by his jeans. His breath became shallow and he felt his head spin. Logan didn't comfort him this time, though. His mind was too busy racing with unsolvable questions. How the hell did they go unnoticed with _guns—_both the terrorists and Arthur? Why was their plane attacked? _Where_ were they going?

And one question that seemed to bite severely at his conscious: who _really_ was Arthur? His tired, brown eyes watched as the man pointed the gun at Arthur, whose face was inscrutable. Then he heard a sound—a sound that resembled a throaty whimper. He turned his head and saw that Carlos' face was covered with cold sweat, and colours of a plum from the bruise on his face. His jeans were stained a reddish-brown.

Feeling an overwhelming sensation in the pit of his stomach, he wrapped Carlos in a tight embrace, and as he did this, he realized something horrendous. How stupid was he…to leave their cell phones in their suitcases. He could have used his phone to call for help and get out of this mess once and for all. He felt guilty as if all of this was his fault, but he knew it wasn't. Then another maddening questioning popped into his head—why weren't the _other_ people taking out _their_ cell phones? Were they afraid that they were going to get caught and then shot? Another guilty pang made its way to his stomach. He only hoped that the call Arthur made was a quick message for help.

It was eerily silent, except for the occasional slant of the plane and everyone would yelp in fear, and the struggle between Arthur and the heinous man. It was scary that no one wanted to help, but Logan felt the same, even if he did want to get rid of the damn terrorists. He now understood the risk was definitely _not_ worth it.

"You goddamn–"

"Shut up!" yelled Arthur, cutting off the man's words. He struggled to stand up. His face was bruised and cut, mouth twitching as he spit out his cigarette and crushed it with his foot. "You make everything so hard, and you've made a huge mess. Fucking cracker." He spat out blood as his eyes locked with the man's hand, which had a hold of his gun.

"Racist, whiny little bitch. I'll shut that fucking mouth of yours," the man spat as he raised the gun and aimed it at Arthur.

"I ain't racist," Arthur countered, showing no emotion.

Without a warning, the man pulled the trigger and Arthur had no time to dodge as a bullet grazed his left shoulder, peeling skin and shirt cloth altogether, combining with the warm blood that began to flow out of his wound. He grunted and put a hand to his shoulder as the thick, red liquid stung his skin.

Arthur smirked. "You have some damn bad aim, dude. Why don't you–"

His sentence was cut off by another shot to his right leg. Arthur gasped and collapsed to his knees as the pain wavered through his whole leg. It felt like a thousand needles had just been inserted in his leg, painfully stabbing his veins and cutting through them so abruptly. He made an effort to stand up as the pain got worse, and his mind had gone slightly numb. Regaining what was left of his injured strength, Arthur coughed out blood and looked at the man in the way he had looked at Carlos before—an indecipherable expression. While the shooter was busy detecting any movements from Arthur that might seem of threat to him, Arthur, casually, took out his cigarette box.

The man tensed, and Arthur just put his hand up in a signal to stop. He slightly cringed as the awful ache from moving his shoulder shot through his arm, and he switched the weight of his legs—from the harmed one to the one that was still intact. Slowly, he took out one cigarette and put it in his mouth, unlit. He put his other hand in his jeans pocket. It was enough time to take out a small gun and shoot the man with some kind of dart. A similar flashback pounded in Logan's head, past images grabbing him by the arms and legs, chaining them together and disallowing his mental return on reality until the visual animation was done.

_The bell had rung, signaling that school was over and Friday afternoon was finally here. All the kids bolted out their classrooms. On one hall there were the Saturday party planners talking wildly. Another had the afternoon bullying of seniors versus freshman. Many halls had the typical nerds bragging about their new software, b__ut one hall belonged to the hockey heads. Sophomore Logan was waiting for his friends—Kendall, James, and Carlos—by their lockers. He had the rare privilege to be let out of class ten minutes early, and during that time he'd walked around the school three times. He had spaced out when a hand slapped his head, making it hit against the lockers._

"_Ow!" Logan shouted, rubbing the back of his head. "That was really unnecessary, Carlos!"_

"_Yeah, well, you were staring at that guy over there and he was about to punch you in the face," Carlos defended, pointing his thumb at a jock._

"_I was not staring," Logan said. "I was _thinking_."_

"_He was still going to pound your guts out," the raven said._

"_If you're only going to talk about me getting beat up then a change of subject would be plentiful help right now. I wish not to be mentally nor physically vexed," responded Logan, crossing his arms over his chest. "Oh, look, here come James and Kendall."_

_Carlos turned his head and sure enough, the two were trotting up towards them, backpacks slung messily over their shoulders. Carlos grinned once Kendall and James smiled at them._

"_Dudes, I have awesome news!" Carlos exclaimed, speaking louder since the hall was crowded with voices. _

"_What?" demanded James, as he opened his locker and looked in his mini mirror, brushing his flawless hair with his lucky comb. "What is it?"_

_Carlos opened his locker and took out a black, shiny hockey helmet. He put it on his head and clasped his hands together in joy. "Isn't it awesome? Yesterday I saw it at the store and it only cost thirty dollars!"_

"_Thirty? For a piece of rounded plastic?" Logan questioned, narrowing his eyes. "That's a rip-off, man. I could've found you a cheap one—better yet, made you one."_

_The three other boys went quiet. Realizing what he had just said, a red blush spread across Logan's pale cheeks and he slightly cocked his head to the side. "I-I mean, i-if I had some type of skill to…uh." He shifted his eyes from side to side and twiddled with his fingers._

_Suddenly, Kendall laughed out loud. "Nice to see you're taking an interest in knitting." Then James and Carlos joined in on the laughter._

_Logan's blush faded. "There's a difference, retard. It's called being a manufacturer."_

"_Whatever," Kendall said, waving the words away. His voice lowered, "We're going to prank Nat today." He rubbed his hands together in a fiendish way._

"_Maybe we shouldn't. There's a possibility that we could be exposed and put ourselves in jeopardy," Logan said._

"_Nu-uh! Don't be a party pooper, we're gonna do this!" Carlos declared._

"_Nat's a freak. He poured milk on my hair this morning, and I had to skip first period so I could fix it. Took a lifetime, and my hand cramped up. Still is. Kind of," James said while making a face, closing his locker._

"_I thought you were skipping," Kendall said, laughing. "Anyways…" He lowered his voice again, "Today we're gonna follow him to his house and egg it."_

"_What! A–"_

_Carlos slapped his hand over Logan's mouth. "Shh. He might be hearing us."_

"_Carlos," Logan muffled. "Carlos–"_

"_No! Shush! Let's go now, guys," the raven insisted._

_Logan scowled, and while Carlos' hand was still on his mouth, he licked the palm of it. Carlos quickly removed his hand and squeaked._

"_Ah! Ew, dude!" He grimaced and wiped his hand on his shirt._

_Both Kendall and James looked at Logan with puzzled faces, as the fair-skinned boy licked his bottom lip with a blank look and shrugged._

"_Look! There he is!" James whispered, gripping Kendall's shoulders._

_Walking through the school doors was Nat, backpack neatly strapped over his shoulders and aligned vertically on his back, white polo shirt tucked in brown trousers and hair neatly gelled back. He was one of those 'anonymous' bullies and a fake teacher's pet. This time, he had dressed like Mr. Saunders, the biology teacher. After twenty minutes of following the guy home, going unnoticed, the boys hid behind a huge bush._

"_I got the eggs," Kendall said as he took out an egg carton from his backpack. He handed four to each of his friends, including himself._

"_What're we gonna aim for?" asked Carlos, staring at his eggs with a glazed look._

"_Throw 'em at the door so we can get his attention. Hopefully he'll open it and we'll get to egg that stupid pretty face of his," Kendall instructed, putting the carton back in his backpack and slinging it lazily over his shoulder._

_James and Carlos nodded, except for Logan who was having second thoughts. "Don't you dare back out now, Logan. We're here already here so bailing is out of the question," warned Kendall._

"_I won't," Logan informed, looking down at his eggs._

"_Do we do it now?" Carlos questioned. "C'mon, let's go!" He stood up, but before he could run James grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him down._

"_Not yet, man! You're gonna blow our cover!" James whispered angrily._

_Kendall sighed. "On the count of three, we scream his name so he'll hear us and we throw the eggs. Make sure to save _one_ for when he opens the door. I want to get the bitter taste in deep." He grinned. "One. Two… Three!"_

_They all jumped from behind the bush and yelled the boy's name and began throwing the eggs. Once the last egg was thrown, the door opened, revealing Nat with a lifeless look. Logan noticed he was holding something in his hand, small and…_

"_Holy s– Guys, he's got a tranquilizer gun! Run, run, run!" Logan yelled, dropping his last egg on the cement._

_The others did the same, but before they could make their prompt escape, each of them felt a needle-like sensation on their backs, filling them with a drowsy feeling, making them fall to the floor one by one… And so, the next day, they all woke up with heavy minds and lectures from their parents._

Logan rubbed his temples. Even the wackiest of past pranks didn't make him feel better in the situation he was in right now. Suddenly, the plane shook as Arthur's opponent fell to the floor with a thud, a dart on his throat. It shook again.

"Fuck, no! Not this again, not right now!" Arthur shouted.

He tried to run to the front, but fell as the plain tilted yet _again_, hurting his wounds and making him groan. Logan's brain hurt from the process until he figured out what Arthur's words meant. The plane shook again and Logan's mind froze. In instinct, his hold on Carlos tightened. The only thing amiss was that he wasn't there. He didn't move, and he yelled the raven's name, but no answer came his way. Shakily, he stood up and looked around, ignoring the people who had begun to scream in terror and cry hysterically.

"Carlos! Where'd you go?" Logan cried as he fell to the floor from the plane's many tilts that seemed to happen continuously now.

The cries and shouts got louder. "Carlos!" he shouted, voice choked and threatening to spill in a loud sob. "Carlos!"

In a flash, the inside roof of the plane bend inward, the floor following. The electricity went out, and everything went pitch black. The sounds of screams and wailing filled the whole airplane now, as every wall bended, every window broke, the glass landing heavily and painfully on people's skin.

Logan felt his heart beat faster for every second of inferno that passed. He yelled one more time, "Carlos! Where are you…?"

He felt his head throb intensely as if it was being split in half, making him scream out. His knees went weak, and he passed out on a thick pool of blood, explicit misery interminably filling the air.

* * *

**A/N**: Maaan, I can't believe I wrote this. Gosh.

-facepalm- Lol.


	7. Dispersed Sense

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Big Time Rush.

**Warning: **Contains slightly gruesome parts. Logan/Carlos.

**Seven – Dispersed Sense**

He opened his eyes, his vision ultimately hazy and blurry that not even bright colours could he identify. But as it cleared up, there weren't any. Everything was white and it smelled like lemons. He grunted and tried to stand up, but a huge ache shot through his stomach, then his whole body. He screamed out loud, and dropped his head on what seemed to be a pillow. He breathed heavily, sweat forming on his forehead. He decided not to move, and instead moved his eyes to figure out _where the hell_ was he.

There was a white door, white walls, and a huge window that revealed a beautiful starry night, and one thing that caught his attention—an IV drip was hooked to his arm, plus the patches from an EKG. The door opened, revealing a nurse. Her eyes went wide, and she quickly got out. For a second, he heard shouts outside—surprised ones—and the door opened again.

Arthur came in, bandages and band-aids covering his body. His old clothes that were crusted with blood were gone and replaced by new ones. "You're finally awake," he said. "You've been asleep since yesterday after the crash, and your one of the few people who survived. You kinda suffered a head wound, and they had to stitch you, and three of your ribs broke."

"Since yesterday…?" Logan wondered, keeping his body pain balanced, trying not freak out.

"Yeah. By the way, just so you won't damage your brain more from thinking too much, I'm from the FBI. Although I kinda went on action too late and my crew was being lazy. Sorry for the whole ruining-your-hockey-trip-and-getting-on-a-plane-crash thing. Unfortunately, everything blew up in the airplane so you won't be getting your things back," Arthur explained.

"The FBI?" Logan repeated.

Now it all made sense. Those people were terrorists who had probably wanted the plane for its inside technology and metal scrapings, and Arthur was undercover, so the men won't seem all that suspicious. But that still didn't explain why Arthur had flirted with Carlos, which irritated Logan.

"Carlos," Logan whispered to himself. His eyes went big and he looked at the agent with a frightened look. "W-where… Where's Carlos?"

Arthur's face fell and he shook his head, playing with his thumbs as he sat down on a chair next to Logan's hospital bed. "I got the rest of the crew lookin' for people on the crashing field yesterday. So far we haven't collected all the bodies, but there ain't no sign of your friend."

"That's not possible!" Logan shrieked, repenting from tears that almost formed in his eyes. "I was–" He stopped himself, remembering what happened the day of the tragedy.

The plane was on the verge of crashing, and Carlos had disappeared all of a sudden. He had hugged the air, the air Carlos once had breathed, and then he felt sharp pains breaking him all over—mentally and physically.

"You what?" questioned Arthur, furrowing his eyebrows.

Logan felt like one of those crazy people, the kind who needed to be in an asylum. He couldn't fight it anymore. Tears streamed across his cheeks and landed on the white bed sheets, creating dark stains. He hurt all over. "H-he can't be…"

"Listen. We haven't found _all_ the bodies, yet," Arthur said sternly. "We _will_ find him, but I can assure you that I don't know if he's gonna be alive or not. So don't get on your sob act. I've had enough of it with all the moaning patients I've had to visit this morning. I swear I'm gonna get a hatchet and cut my ears off."

Arthur's words were but mere mumbles in Logan's ears as he felt himself mentally break down. Carlos could not be dead. He couldn't, he just _couldn't_. The natural order of life would completely turn into a paradox if it were true. His life could definitely _not_ function without Carlos.

"No, he can't. Carlos is not dead! He's not!" Logan yelled, his heartbeat going faster, the EKG copying.

"Yo, calm down! You're gonna have a heart attack, man!" Arthur exclaimed.

"I gotta– I gotta go there! I'll find him, I'm positively confident!" Logan shouted, restraining his pain as he deliberately stood up and steadied himself with the IV drip. He grabbed the heartbeat monitor's patches and yanked them off. His face gradually turned serious and he looked at Arthur. "I want you to take me there."

"I told you, we haven't recuperated all the bodies. Your luck won't be any better–"

"I want you to take me there!" Logan said, partly enraged, creases forming on his forehead.

"Alright, fine, fine. Don't give me that attitude, gonna get Tinnitus soon if you keep it up. We're gonna have to take an electric wheelchair 'cause you certainly won't be able to walk on that broken body of yours."

Logan stood silent, and Arthur walked out the door, returning with a wheelchair. As Logan sat down on it, he was about to remove the IV drip but Arthur's hand on his wrist stopped him.

"Whoa, what're you doing? You have to wait for the nurse to take it off. You'll probably stick it in and it won't be able to come out."

Logan looked up at him with dead eyes. "I was going to be a doctor; I know how to do this." And just as he said it, he removed the needle from his arm with agile hands. Arthur rolled his eyes. "How do I work this thing?" Logan asked, patting the arm of the wheelchair.

"That, uh, stick thing right there. Just move it around and…"

Logan grabbed the joystick and began to move it around everywhere. Without noticing where he had just turned, he drove out the door and slammed right into a wall, hurting his face. One of the nurses came up to him and helped him backup. Logan groaned as the wound on his head throbbed. Arthur came out of the room, smirking and Logan just stared at him coldly.

"You're not supposed to be out of the room," the nurse said.

"He's with me," Arthur said, taking out an ID from his jeans pocket and showing it to the nurse.

"You can't take out a patient without permission," the woman said, scowling at the card.

"It's for an important cause. Please, miss," Arthur insisted as the card was handed back to him. "He's going to help me with the investigation of the _plane_ crash."

The nurse nodded slowly. The last two words had caught her attention. "Okay, but if he comes back with even one new scrape, get ready to dig your own grave."

"Thanks, ma'am," answered Arthur, smiling.

She smiled back, and walked away. Arthur turned to Logan and motioned for him to follow. When they were outside, Logan saw a large jeep, coloured black with red stripes on the bottom. Arthur opened the back door and helped Logan in. After, he folded the wheelchair and put it in the trunk. He entered the car, closed the door, turned on the engine and stepped on the gas pedal. The way out was irritating since he had to dodge cars and people, but finally he was driving on the street.

The atmosphere was, oddly, at peace, except for the loud engines of cars and their honks. Logan looked out the window—the sky was a dark blue with few white stars. If Carlos were sitting next to him it would make him feel light and warm-hearted. And it if it were possible, he would put his arm around Carlos' shoulder and kiss his hair lightly, until he reached his lips and he would give him a light kiss. A single tear slipped down Logan's cheek, but he kept a brave face.

"Just saying. You're probably not gonna find him–"

"You talk with such mockery. Yesterday you were damn flirting with him and now you treat him like a piece of garbage crap? You're sick," Logan growled.

"He's cute, but I'm an agent, not a hooker. Besides, I was undercover so I couldn't expose myself, or else you would be in some foreign country by now. Be glad that we caught those two. They're in the hospital right now, being watched. After they're better they'll have their asses kicked when they go to prison."

"So now you're making fun of him? Carlos just doesn't go with anyone, and certainly not someone like you." At this point, Logan was talking to himself, "I should know." His face fell.

"Sounds like you got a thing for him," Arthur commented, turning on a right.

"You wish," Logan said, undoubtedly lying through his teeth.

"Alright," Arthur answered, turning on another right.

Suddenly, they were surrounded by trees. The night had disappeared and it all looked like a jungle.

"Where is this?" Logan panicked, trying to pry open the door.

"Relax. We're going over there. The plane had landed in a forest. It's restricted for now, so people can't enter here. Seriously prohibited." Arthur's tone of voice was a little off.

Logan fell quiet. Once the car stopped, Arthur stepped out and took out the wheelchair from the back, unfolding it and helping Logan on it in a gingerly manner. Logan breathed in the air. It was thick with wavering smoke, burned metal and rotten corpses. He shuddered a bit and moved the joystick. Without waiting for Arthur, he let his vision accustom to the darkness and anxiously made his way into the abyss of despair.

He pushed the joystick lightly and looked around cautiously, tensing everywhere. He had this strange feeling—a kind that involved a horror yet trilling foreshadow. Logan shook his head, getting the ominous thought out of his head. He took in a quivering breath, let it out, and continued to go on. Meters away from Arthur now, all of a sudden Logan felt something crunch underneath his wheelchair. He looked down, and his face lost all colour as he saw dried blood on the grass, and a hand with crushed and twisted fingers, exposing rusty bones and amber-coloured tissue, veins scattered all over the hand. His thoughts made out the image of Carlos without a hand, blood running down his arm.

"No!" Logan screamed at his surroundings. "Stop!"

The thoughts kept coming back subconsciously; Carlos' body laying empty on the floor, hollow and soulless, his eye sockets dark, infinite holes of where his adoring brown eyes once used to be, and cuts concealing his once joyful expression and heart-lifting smiles. Logan cried and tried to get the images out, but they stuck like glue to cement. Warm tears streamed out of his eyes and he screeched, hoping the loud and piercing sound would deprive him out of his nightmare.

Instead, it made it worse. The headache and his rib pains returned, making him scream out more. He heard footsteps running towards him but he was in plain agony to react. He felt a bump from behind and heavy breathing. Quickly, he wiped the tears away, sniffling softly, and put on the fakest blank look, ignoring his pains. Arthur came from behind and looked at Logan with a bewildered look.

"Man, you're weird. One second I was turning off the car, the other second you're gone. Thought I was going crazy and you were a ghost. Hey, did you hear that sound? I–"

"No," Logan answered almost too quickly, turning his back to Arthur. He waited a bit before stating his next request, "I want you to leave. Now."

Arthur went into a slight state of shock. "That ain't possible. Leaving you here—you'll probably pass out and–"

"Leave. I want to be alone…" Logan's voice was ominous.

Arthur sighed. "Can't argue with the ill." He took out something out of his pocket, small and silver, and stepped in front of Logan. "Here, s'a button. Just click it and I'll come, see'in if you find something."

"Like I'll want that," Logan said sarcastically, grabbing the button.

He waited until the sound of footsteps was gone. He looked down and reverted to the state of perplexity, indignation, and mournfulness. The deranged thoughts had disappeared though, and he was grateful for that. He moved the joystick forward and drove on the burned grass. Suddenly, another sound was heard from below. Fearing it might be another body part, Logan gulped and braced himself. But what he found wasn't a corpse; it was a piece of jagged metal.

There was something stuck to it and Logan bent down, groaning from the pain of his broken ribs, and, carefully, picked up the metal. He let it drop somewhere when he took the thing that had been slightly covering it. With help from the moon's thin, white glow through the above opening of the forest, Logan identified it as a sleeve from a T-shirt. He squinted and through the dark stains of blood, he could barely see its dark purple colour fading.

He bit his lip, and while gripping the piece of ripped cloth tightly, he moved forward. He tried to remain calm as his eyes immediately locked with a bright glint in the distance. He followed it, and as he got closer, the opaque land revealed a piece from the crushed airplane. He moved closer, cautiously, and Logan abruptly stopped, feeling his skin crawl. From the broken window, rusty black hair stuck out in a limp manner. Carlos' head was resting against the bended metal, eyes closed, caramel-coloured forehead, cheeks, and chin covered with red stripes and purple bruises everywhere.

Logan's stomach twisted in a knot and he went to the other side. From this side, he could see a full view of Carlos. His clothes were torn, and his shoulder was sleeveless. He was on his knees, weight supported by the rusty metal that was stuck deeply in the bloody ground. Logan approached him slowly, and carefully got off the wheelchair and sat on his knees on the ground. He brought his hand up and gently stroked the cut cheek. Then he moved down to Carlos' chest. Logan held in a breath, and absolutely _shockingly_, he felt a faint pulse, a slow, but mildly steady heartbeat. He blinked, getting rid of the emotional tears, and hastily pressed the silver button in his hand.

Once he heard the same footsteps from before, he called out loud, "Call the ambulance."

**ooo**

Logan stared. Stared at the ceiling, remembering how Carlos looked when they took him in the hospital—an IV drip in his arm, patches covering his face, arms, and legs, a respiratory machine mask over his mouth, a heart rate monitor watching his every beat. He was horrendously bruised and Logan had captured that image all together before they brought him to his room; the doctor said he needed to tend to Carlos. Carlos' room was three hallways away, and Logan wouldn't be able to see him until tomorrow morning. He had to stay in bed all night and so did Carlos. He faintly recalled the trip to Canada for the hockey game.

That didn't matter anymore, though. Of all the things that had happened in the past hours, Canada was at the bottom of the list. Besides, the tickets were probably ashes now in the middle of nowhere. Logan's stomach suddenly rumbled—he hadn't eaten in hours. Yesterday morning they had been in a hurry, so he didn't get to eat breakfast. The fast food lines at the airport were all closed because of some contagious parasite, and at the time he'd fallen asleep in the airplane, he'd missed the only lunch there, partly because of the incident.

Without giving it much thought, he pressed the service button on the table. A nurse came in. She had dark, red hair, olive skin with brown eyes. Her height was mouth gaping tall. She was like a girl version of James, except for the physical features, leaving in the height.

"May I help you?" she asked in the most edged tone.

Logan thought for a second. "I'm hungry," he responded.

The nurse gave a fake smile. "Your food will be here in about five minutes." And she stepped out, and closed the door without hesitation, a loud slam that practically could have woken up everyone that was currently sleeping in the hospital.

A gush of cold wind hit his face, and he shivered, pulling the blanket up to his chin. It was lonely in the room, and he slightly believed that Carlos would wake up about now and come barging in, all better and healthy, free of injuries, and time would suddenly go backwards, and they would be back on the plane, without spontaneous attacks, arriving at Canada in the next few hours, and having a fun, yet awkward week. Even so, that was impossible.

He jumped a little when the door opened again and in came the same nurse, pushing a cart that had a tray of food on it. She smiled her fake smile for the second time and put the tray on the table beside Logan's bed and left, taking the cart with her. Logan looked at the tray. There was a bowl of soup, blue Jell-o, a biscuit and a cup of orange juice. In fifteen minutes tops he had finished everything that was once on the tray, satisfied enough to not get an ulcer. He checked the time—ten-sixteen. His eyes were a bit heavy.

The door opened softly, and Logan struggled to keep awake.

Arthur's face popped in through the small crack. "Eh, I see you're barely awake. Just wanted to say that you'll finally be rid of me. Gotta go take care of those two devil gnomes. Tell Carlos I hope he gets better." He smirked.

A fire burned within Logan as the door was closed. Arthur may be an FBI agent, but he would knock the teeth out of that unreadable mongrel any day. He was, though not surprisingly, glad he'll never see his face again. The feeling of resentment gave him a headache, and so he decided to turn on the television. Grabbing the remote control and pressing the on button, the first thing that came up was the news, and a woman reporter standing.

"I am here outside of the Mountain View hospital," she said. "Information has leaked out that the terrorists are being held here, until they are fully recovered, with the _few_ survivalists. Body parts of the airplane have landed in the forest of Idaho Falls, causing everyone to go in a panic. Reports say that there are around three hundred casualties–"

Logan turned off the television, the number lingering in the silent echoes. "Two hundred and ninety-nine, imbecile."

* * *

**A/N:** I wrote this while listening to pop songs… Weird, haha.


	8. Misinterpretation

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Big Time Rush.

**Warning: **Logan/Carlos. (Italics = Flashback)

**Eight – Misinterpretation**

It was late when Logan woke up. He slothfully turned his head towards the analog clock on the wall, reading the small numbers—eleven o' seven a.m. He was still recovering from a long night, so the abrupt sting that came over his arm worsened his sleep-deprived attire. He tensed and pulled away, but the prickling sensation followed him. It seemed to go deeper into his skin, making his whole arm go numb.

"Oh my!" a feminine voice exclaimed.

He craned his neck and saw a nurse—a different one. She was looking at his arm, and he looked at it too. A needle was profoundly stuck to his arm, and the punctured hole had started to bleed slightly while the shot's liquid kept going into him, clear and thick.

"It's just a medicine to repress your pains. Please, sir, don't move. Don't make your arm tense," the nurse said.

Logan's arm softened as the nurse took a hold of the top part of the needle. He furrowed his eyebrows as it was taken out and the stinging feeling returned. In a flash, she put the needle against the skin of his arm and gave him the anticipated shot. She put patches with an antiseptic cloth over the bleeding skin, and left without a word of closure. Logan stared at his arm. Besides the two patches, there were thousands of scratches on it and he remembered how Carlos' was practically _covered_, cut up like a scratching post for a tremendous cat.

He wondered if they were giving Carlos shots at the moment, but he didn't want to think about these things—it would make him all the more miserable. He pressed the service button. Minutes later, the red-haired nurse came in.

She opened her mouth to ask what he wanted, but Logan cut her off, "Can I see my friend?" he asked in a detached tone.

The nurse looked at him, puzzled. "Excuse me?"

"Carlos Garcia, in room two hundred and thirteen. He's my _friend_." Adding emphasis to the last word made his stomach turn.

Trying to understand his words, the nurse nodded. "Let me go get a wheelchair fir–"

"I don't need one; I can walk perfectly fine with the IV beside me."

He swung his legs over the bed, and demonstrated to the nurse that he could walk—he didn't need another electric wheelchair bugging in his way. She nodded once again and helped him out the room, walking slowly. The halls were quite noisy for a morning. Doctors and nurses were coming out of rooms every single second. Patients' cries and moans could distantly be heard from their rooms, and every hallway smelled of strong lemons, just like his room. The nurse was walking beside him, watching his every move, and it made him feel like a prisoner.

"Do you need to sit down?" the nurse suddenly asked, looking at Logan with worried eyes.

"Uh…no," he responded, raising an eyebrow.

"Your pace is slowing down. You should sit down. You shouldn't strain yourself," the nurse said, grabbing his arm.

"I'm fine!" Logan exclaimed, yanking his arm away from the woman's hold.

All mouths in the hall went agape, and faces turned towards the two arguing forms. A doctor came up to the nurse and Logan, scowling. He shooed away the staring nurses and returned his angry gaze back to the red-haired nurse. "Is something wrong here?" he asked gruffly, putting his hands on his hips.

The woman stuttered, "S-sir–"

Logan interrupted, "I want to go see Carlos Garcia in room two hundred and thirteen. He's my friend."

The doctor's scowl went deeper with a trace of uncertainty forming. "Carlos Garcia."

"Yes," Logan said.

The doctor went silent, face stressed and aged with years of helping the injured. "Please return back to your room," the doctor demanded.

"Don't play dumb with me. You're the exact doctor that told me to leave yesterday and called so they would bring me back to my room. You fixed him, yeah, but I'm sure he's okay now to be seen," Logan accused.

"Yes…but, I am sorry, you cannot see him right now," the doctor responded.

"Do you honestly think I'll put a pillow over his face and kill him?" Logan's voice got louder and his face turned red. "I'm not psychotic. Just take me where the hell he is and I won't have to bother any of you anymore." He took a deep breath and continued, lowering his voice to a mere whisper, "I care about him. Please, just let me see him."

The nurse's face was red in embarrassment, and the doctor's was blank, the corners of his lips turning downwards. He looked at the nurse from the corner of his eye and the nurse looked back. She nodded and gulped, putting a hand on Logan's shoulder, which was trembling heavily. He was looking down, face extremely tense, breathing heavy, and eyes big. His expression gradually changed into a frown and he looked at the hand the nurse had placed on his shoulder.

The nurse spoke up, "Sweetie, I think–"

Logan's death look locked with the nurse's nervous one. "You don't know anything! Just let me see him, you damn woman! You want to keep him by yourself, don't you? I won't let you keep us trapped in here." His words flowed out of his mouth in an impulsive manner without analyzing them first. He didn't feel like himself anymore. It was all too much. "This never happened, right? You're all just mirages– What are you doing–"

The nurse took out a needle from her back and quickly gave Logan an injection on his bare shoulder, which made him dizzy.

"Sorry, honey, but it's for your own good," she said before he felt himself fall into a forced sleep.

**ooo**

"He has been traumatized, meaning he's become infatuated with the boy. I saw the lustful look he gave Carlos Garcia before he was taken out. It was quite mystifying."

"Imagine how he will react when he finds out the boy is in a coma. Walter, you get all the easy patients."

"Lucky me, but I still have to work longer since I have to keep a constant check up on the sleeping ones. It's not as easy as it looks. Sometimes I wish I could have powers to make everyone better and be done with it."

There were two voices in the room. One belonged to Carlos' doctor and the other one…Logan didn't know. He kept his eyes closed, faking his sleep, but his ears were wide awake.

"So, um, what are you doing to do? Have you contacted his family yet?" Carlos' doctor said.

"We haven't had time for that. Half of the patients I've met don't even have families. They're probably together, I assume. This one seems to have strong feelings for the other one. It's obvious by the way you said he acted."

"So…they're both gay?" There was a tone of disgust in Carlos' doctor's voice.

"Yes. Changing the subject, have you figured out how long is he going to sleep?"

"A coma is incomprehensible. He suffered a mountainous internal head wound; probably hit a wall in the airplane. It won't be in a matter of days, I'll tell you that. It could be a week or years. We'll have to deal with the psycho until he wakes up."

"Hey, no calling my patient names. We're still in here, you know. He could be listening."

"I don't think so. That shot Nurse Ellen gave him lasts pretty long," answered Carlos' doctor in an easy tone.

"Sure. Say, what did they do about the bills?"

"Some government corporation paid for all the survivalists. Said they were responsible. I don't get it."

"Me either." It was quiet.

"So what're you going to do with that crazy patient of yours?" said Carlos' doctor.

"I told you to quit the name calling. Anyways, as you said earlier, the poor boy is traumatized. I'm going to give him a casual medicine to keep him calm at all times. We can't have him screaming all over the halls. The other patients could be scarred."

"Basically, you're going to drug him."

"I wouldn't say that. Think of it as a therapeutic remedy."

"Some big words for a simple and illegal task. I'd say it's abusive. He should just go see Harold. In case you have forgotten we have a psychologist in this area, Allen. And he's not too bad either. Heard he cured a girl who thought she could listen to demons and spirits and all that supernatural stuff. It turns out that her brother had been whispering stuff to her while she had been sleeping."

"Allen's a good psychologist, and it's _not_ abusive nor illegal. I've done it with many patients before."

"And after they were all better they came back with cut wrists. Are you sure you didn't give them anti-depressants?" Carlos' doctor chuckled.

"No," the other doctor said. "I've got these babies wherever I go, they come in handy. I'll have to give him one when he wakes up so he won't try to stab anyone with a fork."

"Suit yourself," Carlos' doctor said in a bored tone.

Logan heard the door close. He opened his eyes as if he had been in a previous heavy sleep. The other doctor turned his attention to him and his white eyebrows went up.

"Ah, you're awake. Hello, I'm Doctor Reynolds. I operated you when you were first brought in. You're barely waking up from a shot your nurse gave you. Ha, ha, you had become a little loopy."

"She was the loopy one," Logan snarled, digging his fingers in the bed sheets.

"Uh, well, I've come here with a treatment that will help you control yourself." He smiled sweetly.

"Control myself?" Logan questioned.

"Yes. This might be hard to understand at first but your friend—Carlos Garcia—has seemed to…cause a deep effect in your personality, along with the…accident. Please, don't be offended–"

"There's nothing wrong with my _personality_," Logan said boldly.

"Please, you must understand. I have a medicine that will help you with your condition–"

"I don't have a condition. You can't keep me away from Carlos! Now I'm glad I didn't become a doctor. You're just a bunch of idiots who do nothing but drug people and take their money for greedy purposes!"

"Listen–"

"Why don't _you_ listen for a change? I bet that guy doesn't even _tend_ to Carlos. Heart rate? Check. Blood transfusion? Check. Lunch time? Oh, silly me, I haven't eaten yet. On–"

"You have to take care of yourself, first," Doctor Reynolds said patiently. "Your…boyfriend will be something to worry about later."

A weird feeling came over Logan as the 'B' word struck him like a bulldozer to a building. He felt sick. Emotionally sick. Doctor Reynolds smiled again and took out a small, orange container from his coat pocket. He took out a white, thick pill from it and crushed it into powder in a glass full of orange juice that was on a tray full of food—it had probably been delivered to him while he had still been unconscious.

"You only have to take a small sip," Doctor Reynolds said.

Logan grabbed the glass from the tray and took a big gulp. The doctor nodded and walked out. Once he was sure Doctor Reynolds wouldn't be coming back, Logan spit out the orange juice back in the glass. He wasn't going to drink that damn poison. He stood up and entered the restroom, holding onto the metal stick of the IV drip. He turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on his face, the coolness of it invading his pores and getting rid of the oil that had accumulated there.

He dried himself with the softest towel he'd ever felt—like the fur of a shih tzu. He left it on his face for a while, breathing on it and rubbing it all over his face; he enjoyed it for the last time, and put it down on the sink table, looking up at the mirror. It was the first time he looked in the mirror since the accident, and there was only one word to describe what he saw on his reflection: appalling. Bags were under his eyes, coloured a dark purple like a violet flower.

His face was full of little patches, skin concealed with dirty brown splotches. His hair was flat; there was no life in it. His pupils were sore-looking and his eyebrows had no texture to them. He felt horrible and looked horrible—a gross, mutual agreement. No one desired this. No one.

He stripped himself off his hospital robe and stepped in the shower, pulling in the curtain. He turned on the water. It was warm and relaxing while it ran through his hair, down to his neck, back and legs. The water was invigorating. The hot liquid jumped into his skin, flowed with the blood inside him, and reached the veins of his brain. He went on wide alert, and though the water was pleasantly thermal, his skin and insides were abruptly cold, like a day with snow when the sun was up.

"Carlos?" he whispered.

He wasn't crazy. Carlos was still resting on his bed, heart beating and the sound soothing to Logan's pale ears. His breathing was still intact under the mask, warm and mild like thick, tepid water from a kiddy pool. His eyes were closed peacefully, just for a while, like the eyes of a brown bear that refused to wake up during hibernation… Hibernation, that was it! The doctors were wrong. Carlos was definitely not in a coma, just in hibernation like the bears. Really soon, he will wake up, refreshed and healed and the scars of the recent past would fade away just as quickly.

"What…" Logan whispered again, his voice as distant as it could get.

It wasn't recognizable anymore, and it sounded like a plea for help, something that could come out of a little boy's mouth, small and confused. He's not crazy, he isn't. He gulped and a strange voice began to whisper in his mind, telling him he was living in a lie.

"Dammit, this isn't…what's… What's wrong…?"

He sank on his knees on the wet floor. The previous words of the doctors' flashed in his mind, bloody and taunting.

_"__He has been traumatized, meaning he's become infatuated with the boy."_

_"__Imagine how he will react…"_

_"__Have you contacted his family yet?"_

_"__Your…boyfriend will be something to worry about later."_

The voice inside his head spoke to him again, this time telling him that nothing was safe. The park wasn't safe, the airplane wasn't safe, and so, how much hope could he have in here? Worst of all, Carlos wasn't safe. He was sleeping for a while, all his brain nerves in a dead-like manner, making him vulnerable.

"Nothing makes sense anymore," Logan said, turning off the shower with a tense hand while his mind was blank, as if it was composed from cotton.

He flinched as the odd experience forced itself back into him, but he rapidly dried himself, got dressed and settled on the cushy hospital bed.

"It isn't safe. Carlos isn't safe," he said quietly, trying to understand what was wanted from him.

It was all piling on top of him—the imaginary quotes were haunting him. He didn't know what to do. It was all too random. He only knew that he had to get Carlos and himself out of this _place_ and whether he wanted to live was a confusing choice.

"N-no. It isn't right. G-go away," Logan murmured, blocking the eerie thoughts.

It was as if part of his mind had become its own person and now it was trying to control _him_. He looked out the window. The sun was out, the sky was a soft blue, and the clouds were a light grey. He spotted a flock of crows flying in a triangle. His Alternate Voice told him that they were going to a place that was safe, but he ignored it, and it continued to gnaw at his subconscious.

"Tell them that we're safe? How is that going to help?" Logan said angrily. "Harmed? They're all the way in California!" He was silent for a minute. "I can't, we'll be hunted down. Carlos is still in a com– hibernation, but my injuries don't matter. Besides, all our stuff got burned in the airplane." He was silent again. "No, I don't want them to worry. But, what should I say?" More silence.

He looked around, hoping no one might come in. The phone was sitting on the wooden table and hastily, he took it in his hands. He punched in star sixty-seven first, and dialed a number. It rang two times before someone answered.

"Hello?"

"Hello?" Logan responded.


	9. A Ghostly Promise

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Big Time Rush.

**Warning: **Logan/Carlos. (Italics = Flashback)

**Nine – A Ghostly Promise**

It was quiet for a moment before Kendall's loud voice boomed into Logan's ears, "Logan? Is that really you? Oh, my God, dude! Where are you, man? We've been worried sick! I've been calling your cell phones for two days straight and this operator would answer, saying your number can't be reached or something like that. Anyways, where are you? Seriously, they said there was this terrorist attack in a plane and it blew up!"

"Um… We're okay…" Logan answered with a dead tone.

"Really? Good, 'cause the stupid reporter didn't say what plane had crashed and James and I were freaking out! Dude, I feel sorry for those people…" Kendall's voice trailed off.

"Me, too," Logan said.

"Uh, so anyway, how was the game? Who won?" Kendall's voice sounded eager and Logan could imagine the grin on his face.

"Uh… I'll tell you guys when we get home. I don't wanna ruin the surprise."

"Aw. Okay. So what're you guys up to right now?" Kendall's voice lowered, "Have you and Carlos done something yet?" His laugh was taunting.

"Not yet," Logan chuckled nervously. "Um, what's been going on over there?"

"Funny you should ask. Poor James got mauled by girls yesterday at the park. I was helping him look for a girl, but…we kinda failed. He got thousands of girls' numbers, but they all got lost because we got chased by a rabid dog. It was crazy!"

"Sounds fun," said Logan. "Um… Kendall?"

"What?"

"Can you do me a huge favour?" The sweat on Logan's hands dripped on the phone, making it slippery.

"Yeah… What is it?" Kendall sounded uncertain.

Logan hesitated, but continued on, "We're…going to stay here one more week."

He waited for the questioning to come forth, but it never did. Instead Kendall's voice came cocky, and Logan could hear the small dark snicker, "You're trying to pull it off? He'll give in by the time you guys return. Don't worry, I'll come up with another plan and you guys can have more _fun_. More vacation for us, too, ha."

Logan sighed, relieved, and smiled. "Thanks, Kendall. I can always count on you."

The urge of telling the blonde what was really going on came over Logan and stuck in his throat. The Alternate Voice in his head stopped him and Logan said a quick goodbye and hung up. It was still unclear of why he was doing this, but he felt controlled—like a robot.

There was a knock on the door, and Nurse Ellen came in. Logan looked at her with an intense, serious face and she smiled halfway. There was a black box in her hands, and she put it on the table.

"It was sent by someone," she said and closed the door when she left, leaving Logan alone again.

He grabbed the box and shook it. A small sound of something small sounded inside the black square. The box was pretty small, so whatever was inside wouldn't be anything explosive. Slowly, he opened the lid and looked inside. Something was wrapped with a black cloth. He unwrapped the cloth and a small paper was inside, folded in a cylindrical shape.

Logan opened it and read it to himself, "Sup. Eh, I wasn't going to do this but you got score points for being in a band, so it's stupid, I know. Also 'cause Carlos deserves better, yeah, I just pissed you off right now. Anyways, I wasn't supposed to do this, but what the hey! Since you practically lost _everything_ in the crash, I set up a bank account for you guys. It has a couple of hundred dollars and you can use it for whatever you want. The pin number's down below, at the back of this note… That's it."

The note wasn't signed, but Logan got the feeling that it was sent from that damn Arthur. He didn't understand. Was this some kind of sick joke? Who in their right mind would give out a _couple_ of hundred dollars without something in return? He was about to rip the paper to shreds but his Alternate Voice stopped him.

"He's a jerk," Logan growled. "How is this going to help?" He was silent. "I supposed that's correct, but–" His eyes went wide. "Well…no. That's repulsive– Okay. But if it's a joke I'll hunt down that sicko and cut out that sick brain of his." He wrapped the cloth around the paper and put it back in the black box, tucking it inside his hospital robe. "Am I still…" He listened to the hollow air in the room. "When he wakes up…got it."

**ooo**

The sun was hot against his skin, and he moved the joystick to get under the tree's shadow. It was cool now, though a little warm, but he could feel the breeze that swam in the shadow. He looked around and found different land and different people. There was a beautiful white rose bush sitting all alone. In another corner, there was a man sitting on the grass, crutches lying down on the grass by his side, and a tulip being twirled by his fingers.

Logan abruptly recognized the man as the flight attendant from the airplane. He frowned, and turned around to face the other side. This time, his eyes spotted a girl and a man. The girl was on a wheelchair. She was smiling at the man, who smiled back at her. She whispered in the man's ear, and the man continued to smile. He grabbed the handle bars of the wheelchair and he started to push her towards Logan's direction. Quickly, Logan turned around.

"Wait!"

He stopped and stared down at the grass. He looked up and immediately, the colour drained from his face. It was the same girl from the airplane, the one who had been shot twice. He looked at the man and identified him as a police officer.

"Are you okay?" the little girl questioned.

What caught Logan's attention was that the girl was flawless. Her skin had no blood, there were no bullet wounds, and her hair was silky and clean on her shoulders. She was wearing a white dress that stopped on her ankles. The girl smiled at him and Logan's expression went from surprise to fright.

The police officer frowned. "Sir, is something wrong? Sir?"

The words in Logan's throat were stuck. He blinked and the girl had disappeared, but the police officer was still scowling.

"Sir?" the police officer repeated. "Are you okay? Do you need to go back inside?"

Logan blinked again, but the image of the little girl didn't return. He pressed his lips together, and shook his head at the police officer, reassuring him that he was fine—which he wasn't. The police officer nodded, and headed back towards the place he was once before.

Compared with the inside of the hospital, the outside was peaceful and relaxing, and it kept Logan in a level of sanity. Inside was dark and small and felt as if he was stuck in a cage. Other than that, since he came outside, his Alternate Voice had kept silent. At least, his mind wasn't corrupted at the time by the self-controlling thoughts.

"Sir, it's time to go inside," Nurse Ellen's voice came from behind. "Doctor Reynolds has something to show you."

Logan turned around and followed the woman inside. The elevator ride was silent, and finally, they reached his room.

"Wait, this isn't my room, this is–"

"Carlos Garcia's," said Carlos' doctor as he appeared from around the corner. Trailing from behind was Doctor Reynolds. "We feel terrible for what happened earlier, but we couldn't let you in. The nurses were doing tests on him to see if anything was wrong. He's doing well."

The faint words of the Alternate Voice hummed in Logan's mind, warning him that it was a trap.

"No, it is _not_. Shut up," Logan muttered under his breath.

The door was opened, but before it was fully closed, Carlos' doctor spoke up, "We'll be waiting outside if anything goes wrong," he said gravely in an accusing manner.

A small click sounded and the door was closed. The heartbeat monitor made Logan's heartbeat go faster. He pushed the joystick, turning around at an incredibly slow pace, and came face to face with the bed's railing. He took a deep breath, and moved forward until he could, once again, see Carlos' angel face. Well, not entirely angel-like because it was still bruised, but it was the first thing that made Logan smile truly in a short time that really, felt like a decade. Gently, he put a hand on Carlos' cheek and stroked it, ignoring all the bumps.

Even so, the sound of Carlos' heartbeat from the machine made him feel utterly restless. The Alternate Voice kept whispering illogical words in his head; they were spoken so fast that they were not understandable. A colourful flash popped in Logan's head, and just as fast, the sound of the heart monitor began to sound deadly. The waves on the screen disappeared and transformed into a constant red line. Gradually, Logan's eyes grew big and he swiped his hand away from Carlos' cheek.

"Carlos? Carlos! No, wake up!" Logan shouted, shaking the boy furiously. "Carlos, wake up! You can't leave me!" The Alternate Voice kept shouting, which was giving him a headache. "Shut up, dammit!" He shook his head. "Shut up!"

The door opened and in came the two doctors and the nurse with wide eyes.

Logan looked at them. "Do something!" he cried.

"Do what?" Carlos' doctor asked.

"He's dying, you idiot! Are you _blind?_" Logan shrieked.

"Calm down," said Doctor Reynolds, putting his hands up. "Aren't you–"

Just then, the constant beep disappeared, and the soothing sound returned. Logan looked at the monitor—the waves were going up and down smoothly. He blinked and looked at Carlos. He was still breathing under the mask, eyes closed peacefully.

"It was all part of your imagination, just calm down," Doctor Reynolds assured.

Logan gave a bewildered expression at Doctor Reynolds, then the monitor, and last but not least, Carlos. Along with the horrible experience, the Alternate Voice had ceased to whisper hysterical sentences at him. He gulped. He was about to speak, but was interrupted by the voice of Carlos' doctor.

"Well, it's evident that it's not good for you to be here. You should return to your room. Nurse Ellen–"

"No!" Logan shouted, looking at the doctor with trembling eyes and lips. "Please, I _have_ to stay here. Can't you transfer me here and give my room to a patient who needs it more? Please."

Both doctors were quiet, and then they both turned around and conversed with each other. The words that they spoke were too low that Logan had to strain his hearing to identify what they were saying, though he couldn't make out what was exactly said. Doctor Reynolds shook his head and they both turned around to look at Logan, whose face was full of anxiousness—he looked as if he was about to burst in a fit. Carlos' doctor sighed and he rubbed his chin before he opened his mouth to speak.

"I suppose so… We recommend that you don't interact with him so constantly. It could affect our process of healing all his wounds, since he did suffer a great head wound. All in all…the answer is partially yes."

As they began to leave, Doctor Reynolds whispered something to Carlos' doctor that Logan could hear all too clear, "You said so yourself that he's crazy. I don't trust you with this, Walter."

"Look who's calling the names now. Relax, the boy's partial trauma comes from Carlos Garcia. It'll be good for him to spend a little time with his…uh…boyfriend. As you said, consider it as a therapeutic remedy," explained Carlos' doctor, chuckling to himself.

Doctor Reynolds sighed loudly. "Damn you, Walter."

The door was closed as Nurse Ellen stepped out, giving one last smile to Logan. The Alternate Voice returned and Logan petrified in the seat of his wheelchair.

"When he wakes up?" Silence. "We're not returning for another week…"

He took Carlos' limp hand in his, and intertwined their fingers. Carlos' hand was warm and tender under his own. Logan's heart beat in his chest in a light manner, feeling his head clear up. It was all he could to keep his sanity and not panic involuntarily like the last few days. He bent down and placed a kiss on Carlos' bandaged head, then one on his cut up cheek.,

"I promised I will be there… I swear I'm on my way. I know you may not hear me… But that's the price I'll pay," he sang softly.

_"__Carlos, you okay, man?" asked James._

_Carlos didn't answer. Currently, they were in a movie theater, watching the latest violence and comedy-themed movie. It was halfway through the movie, and the raven hadn't laughed one single time. He shook his head and stood up._

_"__I'm going to the restroom," he commented and walked out, leaving the three boys in a state of puzzlement._

_Logan stared as Carlos' figure vanished through the doors. He too stood up. "I'm going to see what's wrong with him." James and Kendall nodded._

_He went in the direction of the restroom and entered, but there was no sign of the raven._

_"__Carlos, are you here?" Logan called out, checking every corner._

_He spotted an open stall and carefully pushed it open. Carlos was sitting on a corner, knees to his chest, and head buried in his arms._

_"__Car…los?" Logan scowled, crouching down._

_The raven's head immediately went up, face white as a ghost._

_"__What's wrong?" asked Logan, putting a hand to Carlos' cheek, stroking it gently._

_Carlos gulped and colour returned to his face. "Nothing," he answered in a choked voice._

_"__C'mon, tell me," Logan pressured, now stroking the boy's hair._

_Carlos looked away and turned red as his mouth opened slightly. His voice was a whiny whisper, a hurt tone to it, "Nat threatened me."_

_Logan furrowed his eyebrows. "What?" He gritted his teeth._

_"__He threatened me," Carlos squeaked as tears rolled down his face._

_A burning sensation erupted within Logan as he wrapped Carlos in a tight hug, but the raven pulled away, sniffling loudly._

_"__I want to go home," Carlos said, wiping the tears away from his reddened face._

_Logan nodded._

_After informing James and Kendall that Carlos felt 'sick', they both walked down the streets, wounding their way to Carlos' home. When they got to the doorstep, Carlos went quiet for a second. He looked up at Logan with a sad face._

_"__C-can you stay over today?" he asked with a monotone tone._

_Logan wrapped his arms around the raven, squeezing their bodies together in a loving manner, and whispered, "It'll be my pleasure."_

_The house was dark and quiet—it was after nine and so Carlos' family was probably sleeping by now. After a few seconds, they were in Carlos' room._

_"__Maybe you should leave," Carlos abruptly said as he turned on the light._

_Logan frowned. "Maybe I shouldn't."_

_Carlos sighed and sat on his bed. He pulled up his knees to his chest, and buried his chin on his arms. A pained expression crossed over his face and it utterly hurt Logan to see him like that. He sat down on the bed and embraced Carlos, putting his chin on the soft, black hair. Carlos let out a trembling breath, and settled himself on Logan's chest._

_"__I promise I won't let anyone hurt you ever again. I'll be here for you and keep you safe under my wing," Logan said softly, stroking Carlos' arms._

_Carlos was silent. "I don't believe you."_

_A sharp pang went through Logan's heart. "I _promise_."_

_"__Okay," Carlos answered, a hint of doubt in his voice._

"Take a shot in the dark…" Logan finished the song. "Maybe you were right," he muttered, planting another gentle kiss on Carlos' cheek. "But I'll fix it this time. I promise."

His Alternate Voice suddenly returned, denying his words.

"I will," Logan said, determined.

* * *

**A/N:** Ahhhh, I think I'm failing at making this story realistic. -facepalm-


	10. Midnight Passion

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Big Time Rush.

**Warning: **Contains slightly intimate scenes. Logan/Carlos. (Italics = Flashback)

**Ten – Midnight Passion**

The day seemed to go extremely slow. It was already three fourteen and Logan felt groggy. Reason being because he'd taken a nap, but Nurse Ellen had entered and woke him up—yet again—to give him another shot. Since the room was big enough, another couple of nurses had brought in a small bed, and pushed it next to Carlos' bed.

"The shots aren't necessary," Logan had growled when Nurse Ellen had put the patch with the antiseptic cloth on his arm.

Nurse Ellen had been slightly alarmed, but she had already started to get accustomed to Logan's obnoxious behaviour. Honestly, most of the patients she had been assigned to were either too drugged or hurt to respond. But Logan—he was spunky for having three broken ribs and a small head injury. She would've flirted with him, seeming as he was pretty cute, but she overheard the two doctors talking. Too bad Logan swung that way.

It gave her goosebumps to see the boy turn his head, and look at the sleeping raven with a wanting look as she stepped out the room and closed the door.

And so, at this moment, Logan was propped up on his elbow on the small bed, staring at Carlos. He half expected for Carlos to suddenly wake, unveiling his sweet, brown eyes and smile with a falter. He literally _half expected_ that, and it was driving him insane.

"I love you," Logan blurted out.

Carlos was asleep, brain shut down, so what harm could he do for saying those three words? Though it was stated that the raven wouldn't be waking up real soon to hear them, it was a fact that those words hurt _Logan_ severely. He wondered if Carlos would ever return those three words; at least only once in his lifetime would be enough to satisfy Logan. If Carlos were to wake up, of course. His Alternate Voice spoke.

"No, he will. He will wake up," Logan declared in a struggling voice.

His elbow went weak, and so he switched elbows. It was like an analogy—his tired elbow represented him, but his strong elbow also represented him. Many times he was confused and tired, and he badly wanted to get out, but his will was strong, and he definitely was _not_ going to give up on Carlos. Would he do that ever, may he be hanged in a solitary place.

As his once-resting elbow made itself comfortable from the standing position, the little black box fell and landed by his side. Logan glared at it, and all he wanted to do was to grab the spoiled item and throw it fiercely at a wall, hoping it might vanish into thin air, or something ridiculous like that. The few logical brain cells that were left in his brain kept speculating over the subject of the box. He refused to believe that the words written on the paper were real.

It was impossible. For now, Logan ignored the box and tucked it under his bed sheets so it would be out of view. The few brain cells powered up again, and began to switch from possible answer to another possible answer.

"It doesn't add up," Logan muttered, scowling.

A migraine crept up in his head, and he quickly dropped the subject. The heartache in his chest was enough to bear with. He sighed sadly, and looked up at Carlos, who looked serene and adorable as ever. The recurring thoughts from what seemed to have happened years ago showed up in Logan's mind like a slow slide show.

Carlos was celebrating Prank Day.

Then Kendall came up with a plan, which involved hockey tickets and super soakers.

A day after, him and Carlos were in the airport to board an airplane to Canada.

And then the _incident_ occurred.

And now Carlos was in a com– hibernation, torn to shreds, having to lie down all day so he could recover. It was eerily intriguing—and he'd already thought of this countless times—that such a tranquil—and probably love-filled—trip had been abruptly transformed into a scene from a horror and sentimental movie. And that's exactly how he felt—as if he was in a fantastic movie and he was one of the main characters. Except this was real life.

It absolutely was not fantastic, and, usually, being a protagonist was something to be proud of, yet in this case, he felt ashamed, put down and heart-broken. It wasn't the type of heart-broken in the fantastic movies that only lasted a few minutes. It was the type that was described with wrenching, painful, and spirit-shattering words: delusions, oppressive, lost and loss.

Even though he felt all of this at the same time, he still felt hollow of emotions, like a lost soul wandering in the silent land of an empty hill, where exotic animals used to graze on the rich green pastures, but the animals were now gone, and were probably killed in such a spine-chilling way.

The door opened and Logan was snapped out of his dark thoughts. A nurse came in, but it wasn't Nurse Ellen. The woman was short, at most, simple, not as mouth-gaping as Nurse Ellen. As she came in, she completely rejected Logan's presence. He stared as the nurse checked everything from Carlos' breathing to his heartbeat. He watched intently as the woman kept scattering her hands all over Carlos and the machines.

"Oh, you poor soul…" she whispered; and as her eyes grazed Carlos' face, she then looked up and was startled by Logan's icy eyes.

Her cheeks turned slightly red, but returned to their regular creamy coffee colour. She did a weird gesture and returned her attention to Carlos, then left a minute later. Logan groaned. The constant door opening irritated him, and he started to feel suffocated. Although he felt the need to stay close to Carlos, he also felt the need to get fresh air. Or at least disappear from this room.

His ribs were still in the process of healing, and so when he stood up all too sudden, a pain shot through him that made him grab onto the bed railing. In a steady manner he sat on his wheelchair. He was partly glad the IV drip was not a crucial thing to keep attached to him anymore. He opened the door, and closed it with a soft click.

**ooo**

Being inside was torture. After Doctor Reynolds had found him wandering outside in the hospital's 'backyard playground', Logan was forced back inside. There was no prudent reason, but Doctor Reynolds' voice had been as sharp as a bee's stinger.

_"__You are not supposed to be outside! It is bad for your health!" Doctor Reynolds demanded._

_"__I was outside earlier today; why should it matter right now?" Logan countered, threatening to run over the doctor with the wheelchair._

_"__You shouldn't go outside that often. It is good for you to receive sunshine and the beauty of the land, but you also need your rest."_

_Accepting defeat, Logan snarled and went inside with such a slow tempo. He failed to chafe Doctor Reynolds, and instead spotted the smile of pure victory on the doctor's wrinkled face._

"You sure look devastated…or irritated," said a feminine voice.

Logan looked to his right then left, but found no one. He proceeded to go on, driving in the hallways and looking out the windows, peering out at the calming sky and flying pigeons. He felt that he started to hear voices again, and he needed a distraction.

"Right here," said the same invisible person.

In a flash, a woman appeared in front of Logan. He was startled out of his wits that he almost jumped off his wheelchair.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," the woman said, giving him an apologetic look.

"What do you want?" Logan asked with an edge.

"Oh, nothing, you just looked lonely and seemed as if you wanted company," she said, brushing her blonde bangs from her eyes.

"I don't. Thanks anyway," Logan said, pushing the joystick to go to another hall, but the woman stopped him once again.

"But you're in a wheelchair, and–"

"Don't you have somewhere you need to be?" Logan growled, containing an annoyed sigh.

"Not really," the woman answered, her expression turning somber. "My boyfriend has been in a recent accident. They won't let me in, and I have to wait here. I don't know if he's okay, or…" she choked on her words and trailed off.

Logan stared at the joystick. In an odd way, he knew how the woman felt. At first, they wouldn't let him see Carlos. "Oh," was all he could say.

The woman nodded and sniffed.

Logan fidgeted in his seat. "What happened to him?" he asked.

"He got in a car accident," she cried. "I just really hope Carlos is okay."

Logan's head snapped up, and he looked at the woman with shocked eyes. "What?"

"Carlos. That's my boyfriend's name."

"_What?_" Logan's eyebrows began to scrunch up intensely.

Before he could inquire her further, another feminine voice came running in his ears, though this one was smaller and child-like.

"Mommy, is daddy gonna be okay?" A little girl came, wrapping her tiny hands around the woman's leg.

"I still don't know, sweetie," the woman said, patting the child's hair.

The mother looked up at Logan. "This is my daughter, Helena." She smiled, and the little girl looked up at Logan.

If Logan had never known Carlos, he would've thought that the little girl could be the most adorable thing ever—but, to him, she was just a random girl who happened to have a cute face.

"Hi, mister." Helena smiled. "Are you a friend of daddy?" Logan scowled. "Look, I've got a picture of him." The girl reached into the pocket of her dress, and took out a picture.

"Sweetie, that's not nece–"

"Look!"

The girl let go of her mother's leg and stepped in front of Logan, holding up the picture. The person in the picture had a square-shaped face with chiseled features, blonde hair and pale-pink skin. Logan nodded at the picture and Helena grinned, putting it back in her pocket. She looked up at her mother.

"Mommy, can we go buy flowers to give to daddy when he wakes up?"

"Oh, sweetie, of course." The mother picked her up and cradled the girl in her arms. "It was, uh, nice meeting you." She smiled at Logan, and left with her daughter.

An overwhelming sensation filled Logan. The girl had been so confident that her father was going to wake up. He considered the words the girl had said to her mother.

_"__Can we go buy flowers to give to…"_

He pressed his lips and pondered over the love-filled words. He hadn't thought anything beyond Carlos waking up and getting to the bottom of the mysterious letter.

"I-I should get him something," he whispered to himself.

But he knew it was useless while he was stuck in this hospital. He would have to wait—when Carlos woke up. He looked out the window, and the sky was a bright orange with a tinge of violet. The sun had started to set. Time had seemed to pick up a fast pace, and he calculated that it was already seven. Once again he felt groggy, but he got the feeling he wouldn't be able to sleep tonight.

**ooo**

"How can you stay so peaceful when I'm dying inside?" Logan whispered in Carlos' ear.

It was midnight, and he was on top of Carlos, straddling the boy's unmoving hips.

"Tell me, Carlos," he gasped, leaning down and pressing his forehead against the raven's.

Carlos' face was unchanging. Although the breathing mask was highly irritating, Logan knew it would be gravely bad if he were to take it off. All he wanted to do at the moment was leave Carlos' lips tainted with passionate kisses. He touched the mask and slipped a finger inside, touching Carlos' lips. He lifted the mask more, and it was halfway from revealing the raven's lips, but the line and sound on the heart machine began to change. Quickly, Logan pulled his hand away, his face turning paler than it could ever be.

"I'm sorry; I didn't mean it," Logan muttered as the machine returned to its original pace.

"Why won't you wake up?" he said in a tone he didn't recognize.

It was a pointless, rhetorical question the way it was heard, but the way it was said had a profuse amount of meaning to it. He clutched the sheets on either side of Carlos and lifted himself up, giving the sleeping boy a look of lust.

"Why won't you… I'll fulfill that promise when you do."

Slowly, he stripped the sheets off and threw them on the floor, leaving Carlos' body vulnerable to Logan's and the cold's touch. He brought his head down and kissed Carlos' warm collarbone, moving up to his neck. He kissed the cuts and the healed skin, each kiss representing an infinite amount of hidden love he had inhibited for years.

"You're so warm…" Logan murmured, breathing on Carlos' pulsating neck.

He grasped the raven's hips and made his way under Carlos' hospital robe, going past his private and rubbing his belly with circle-like motions. Logan shallowly breathed as he kept ravishing the raven's neck, making the skin go purple around the cuts.

"Carlos…" he moaned.

He really couldn't hold it in anymore. As fast as he could, his hand lifted the mask and he gave such an enticing kiss to Carlos' lips. For a brief, dangerous second, the speed of the heart machine went faster, but Logan continued to put fierce kisses upon the raven's mouth, not consciously aware of the damage he was performing. It was not until its highest point of the machine did Logan let go and put the mask on Carlos' face again.

He was panting, sweat rolling on his forehead down to his chin. His hand was still on Carlos' stomach and he squeezed it tightly, enough to create marks. He dug his fingernails in deeper, and he felt warm blood drift out slowly. He took out his hand from under the hospital robe. Logan's cheeks went hot as he saw Carlos' blood drip on his fingertips. The blood soaked in Carlos' hospital robe, creating dark stains on the blue cloth.

"I'm sorry; I didn't mean it…" Logan repeated, staring at Carlos' closed eyes.

He kissed Carlos' jaw lightly, and slipped his hand under the stained hospital robe again. He breathed heavily against Carlos' skin as he seized the raven's clothed groin, but he stopped abruptly.

"What am I doing…? Now _I'm_ the one who's hurting you…"

He withdrew his hand from the robe for the second time and stretched his arm to the bottom of the floor, feeling the bed sheet. He picked it up, and draped it over Carlos once he had rolled onto his bed. Logan wrapped his bed sheet around his body tightly and looked at the window—which had an ample view of the black night—before closing his eyes. But he couldn't sink into unconsciousness, for the previous act he had just done left his mind full.

A small part of his brain kept persuading him to go _further_, but he rejected it, slowly and painfully.

* * *

**A/N:** Oh dear.


	11. Dream Come True

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Big Time Rush.

**Warning: **Contains sexual innuendos, cursing. Logan/Carlos.

**Eleven – Dream Come True**

Logan's eyes were red like the colour of a cherry. The little white in his eyes that remained made them look, at least, as if he had slept at all. Which he hadn't. To put it in simple terms, he was badly sleep deprived. It had been five in the morning when he saw Nurse Ellen come in. He didn't need to be woken up, and so he had obeyed the woman's orders to leave the room. His mind had been too foggy to even understand what had been going on, but he partially saw two people going into the room as he was locked out. Nurse Ellen had informed him that the nurses were going to do another series of tests on Carlos.

"Do you want to go outside?" asked Nurse Ellen.

It had been ten minutes already, and it was known that the tests wouldn't be over any time soon.

"The doctor said I shouldn't go outside. It's bad for my _health_," Logan retorted.

"Oh, he's just a grumpy old man. He's always in a bad mood, and it's rare to see him smile," answered Nurse Ellen.

"Fine, but I'm going by myself," said Logan, as he began walking towards the elevator.

Nurse Ellen had recommended to not use the wheelchair anymore; he needed to get exercise. Logan had just nodded sleepily, and followed the nurse voluntarily.

It was funny. Not funny in a comical way, but funny in a puzzling way. Yesterday it had been warm and mellow, but today the land was skipping with a heavy yet lifeless atmosphere. Quietly, Logan sat down by one of the shrubs and waved away the nurse.

"I'll come back later," said Nurse Ellen, turning on her heels, walking away.

Logan took in a harsh breath, and felt his eyes ponder with the sleep he hadn't received yesterday. He struggled to stay awake, but ended up falling asleep. His head fell lightly on the shrub as his dreams invaded his stuffed mind, weighing heavily and changing his emotions every second…

"Logan… Logan?"

Carlos' voice flowed into his ears like sweet honey. Logan smiled and opened his eyes, spotting Carlos with a half-open mouth.

"Hey," Logan said weakly.

Carlos grinned. "Sorry, did I wake you up?"

"No," answered Logan as he sat up in his seat. "May my lips fall upon yours?"

Carlos blushed, but he smiled approvingly. "Sure."

Logan leaned in, but before he could close the small space that was left, a sudden thought popped into his head. He opened his eyes and looked behind his seat. The seat behind was empty.

"What's wrong?" Carlos asked, cocking his head to the side. He gripped his helmet in his hands, a concerned face overcoming his grinning expression.

"Um, nothing. Nothing's wrong," said Logan, smiling.

He leaned in again, and gave Carlos a loving kiss on the lips. Carlos giggled and pulled away, blushing a light red.

"Attention passengers, the airplane will be landing in a few minutes. Please get ready to exit and collect your luggage," said the flight attendant over the speakers.

"Logan?"

"Yeah?"

Carlos' blush deepened to an apple red. "Can we go eat after? The plane food was gross!"

Logan laughed, and he felt his stomach rumble. "Sure. I haven't eaten, so I need lunch, too. But…I know one thing that'll serve me as a quick pre-snack." He smirked.

Carlos raised an eyebrow, a skeptical expression crossing over his caramel face. "What?"

"Another kiss."

Carlos bushed again. Before he could answer, the flight attendant's voice interrupted him. "You may all proceed to the exit in an orderly fashion. And make sure you don't leave anything."

"Later!" exclaimed Carlos as he jumped over Logan and made a run for it, putting his helmet on his head, forgetting to buckle it.

"Oh no you don't," muttered Logan.

He jumped off his seat and grabbed Carlos by the waist, making them both fall down. Carlos landed on the carpet, with Logan on top of him. Before he could slip away again, Logan had pinned the raven's hips with his knees. He leaned down and gave Carlos such a long-lasting fierce kiss that left them both breathless.

"Um…excuse me? Everyone else has already exited," said the flight attendant's voice.

Both the boys stood up and Logan nodded at the man while Carlos looked down, heavily embarrassed. All the while, the flight attendant had been left dumbfounded as the couple exited the plane.

After an hour of collecting their luggage and completing the various airport tasks, Logan and Carlos exited the building. They spent five minutes trying to get a taxi, until they did. They threw in their luggage inside the trunk and settled in the back seats. As the engine started, the driver looked at them from the mirror and rolled his eyes as he saw that the raven and the brunette were cuddling, their atmosphere clearly glowing with mushy love.

"What are you—a gay fest?" said the driver as he settled his vision back on the streets, an annoyed expression on his bearded face.

He looked back to the mirror and saw that the brunette was giving him such a deadly look. In result, the insults he was about to blurt out were kept locked in his repugnant thoughts.

"Logan? _Where_ are we going?" questioned Carlos as he played with the straps of his helmet.

"I don't exactly know…" answered Logan, scowling. "Um, sir? Do you know a hotel around here? Preferably close to the Air Canada Centre?" Logan's stare was enough to stop the driver from responding with a rude answer.

"Fairmont Royal York's the best. Has a walkin' distance of the Centre. _Très bon_," he said with a heavy accent.

"Thanks. Can you take us there?" asked Logan determinedly.

The driver was silent for a second. "Fine."

The drive there seemed to take an eternity since there was a heavy amount of traffic. Finally, when they arrived in the driveway of the hotel, both Logan and Carlos' faces went white with shock at the beautiful structure of the Fairmont hotel. It was extremely classy with colours blue and white powdered all over it, and a huge, gold sign with its name hanged on the very top of the enchanting hotel.

"Whoa. This is better than the Palm Woods," said Carlos, gaping at the magnetic view.

Logan nodded and opened the door of the taxi. Carlos followed, and they both got their luggage out of the trunk; in the end, Logan paid the driver the owed money. They entered the monstrous building, their bellies full of butterflies.

"This _is_ better than the Palm Woods. It's so cool!" exclaimed Carlos, gazing at the beauty of the inside décor.

"Yeah…" Logan agreed, his eyes analyzing each and every structure.

The lobby was filled with a light chocolate coloured floor, polished clean and left glossy. Golden chandeliers hung from the ceiling like nocturnal bats in their caves. The fluorescent lights made the gleaming floor reflect with the chandeliers' shining, white light. There was a wide range of sofas, and different portraits on the walls. To top it all off, a huge spiral case spun gracefully with a giant, roman-numbered analog clock in the middle of it. Canada had even been nice enough to add a few United States flags here and there.

"Hey, Logan—what kind of food do you think they have here…in Canada?" asked Carlos, still looking at the decorations with a glazed look.

"Um, we'll have to go and investigate that. Do you wanna pick a place to eat?"

"Okay!" Carlos grinned.

Logan smiled. "But first, let's check out a room. We'll unpack later after a nice lunch."

Their suitcases' wheels rode bumpily on the polished and glamorous floor, followed by maroon carpet, and once again coming back to the floor. Finally, they stopped. There was a line of, at least, four people in front of the check in desk and one of them was fighting with the worker behind it.

"I'm telling you, someone stole my fucking keys! I was taking a fucking shower and I heard the front door open! I'm fucking telling the damn truth!" the man yelled savagely, slamming his fists against the counter.

"We're sorry, Mister Carrington, but that is your responsibility. And don't go about telling your father about this," the worker responded.

"I'm _fucking telling_ him if you don't fucking get my keys back!" the man shouted.

"Mister Carrington, I am warning you. I can easily call your father, and you will be automatically expelled from here; I don't care if he's the _boss_."

Logan sighed. "C'mon, Carlos, this is going to take a while…" He grabbed the raven's hand, and led him to a couch.

"Who's that guy, anyway?" asked Carlos, grimacing.

"That's the owner's son—of this hotel. He's a real spoiled kid and worst of all, he's always gettin' threatened by the workers here," said a random bystander. She shrugged and walked away.

"What a jerk," muttered Logan as Carlos cuddled up to him.

"Logan, you're so warm," said Carlos, smiling.

Logan smiled along, and wrapped his arms around Carlos. "Where's that kiss you promised me?"

Carlos pulled away and looked at Logan with a shocked look. Taking advantage of that, Logan grabbed his chin and pressed his lips to Carlos', deepening the kiss by the second. Carlos moaned softly and Logan broke the kiss.

"I could do this all day…" said Logan, grinning with desire.

"Not until I eat," responded Carlos, shaking his head as a blush crept up his cheeks.

"Well, I guess it's gonna take a while." Logan sighed as he stared at the form of the Carrington guy, who was currently raising his hand, smashing the desk bell on the counter.

As he passed Logan and Carlos, he raised his eyebrows and muttered, "Fuckin' homos," and walked out of the hotel.

"Turd," Logan said, standing up.

Thirty minutes later, after waiting in line, they finally had their room assigned. And as soon as the door was closed and locked, Logan pounced on Carlos, making them both land on the huge bed.

Carlos gasped. "What are you–"

But Logan already had Carlos trapped in a kiss, pinned his hands to the bed, and with his free hand had started to unzip the raven's jeans.

"Logan…" Carlos panted as he felt Logan's mouth leave his.

"What?" Logan smiled tauntingly, having Carlos' hands still trapped in his hold.

"Not right now, man. I'm starving…"

"Well I've got some food of my own…" Logan teased, tracing a finger on the raven's lips.

"Ah, no, not that," Carlos groaned. "I mean, like, real food. Jerk," he muttered the last word, blushing heavily.

"Don't be like that," giggled Logan.

"I'll be like that, damn. I want some Canadian corn dogs!" shouted Carlos, giving his boyfriend a puppy dog look.

"Well, I have a corn dog, too. It's long…and thick and you can suck on it how many times you want," Logan said seductively.

Carlos groaned again. "No… I-I don't feel like it. I'm not joking—I really am hungry, and I thought you were hungry, too!"

"Oh, come on, Carlitos. You'll get to play with it, too. I bet it'll fit perfectly in that _little mouth_ of yours and make you moan in ecstasy," Logan said. "Honestly, you'll just love it…"

"Please," Carlos whined. "Logan…"

"Alright, you're off the hook, but I'm having you later."

As Carlos gave a sigh of relief once Logan had let go of him, he couldn't help but giggle. Reason because he wasn't all that hungry. The plane food had been enough to satisfy him, but he'd felt the urge of the need to provoke Logan. And by the way Logan's shoulders slumped as he opened the front door, Carlos had accomplished his task. He stood up from the bed and pecked Logan's puffed cheek, running out. He could hear his name being called as Logan came into the hallway. Carlos grinned and Logan rolled his eyes.

As they walked towards the elevator, Logan accidently bumped into someone. "Sorry–"

"Watch where you're going, fuckin' homo!"

Logan recognized the voice all too well—it belonged to the Carrington guy, the one who had fought verbally with the worker earlier.

"Watch where _you're_ going," Carlos said, scowling deeply at the guy.

"What'd you say, little punk? Better watch your damn mouth 'cause I can easily kick you outta here," the man snarled.

"So? There are lotta hotels. We don't need one with ratty people. Heh, like _you_," Carlos quipped.

"Oh, my God! You damn homo!"

The man lifted his fist to punch Carlos, but before he could, Logan stepped quickly in front of the raven and received the hard blow. He grunted as the pain settled in his stomach, making it throb uncomfortably. The Carrington guy growled and left once again, stomping fiercely into the hallway.

"Logan! Are you okay?" cried Carlos, noticing the pained expression on the pale boy's face.

"Y-yeah. I'm fine…a bit. Just glad _you_ didn't get hurt," said Logan, biting his lip.

"You're a moron. I'm not a little kid," grumbled Carlos.

"But you act like one." Logan chuckled and locked his hand with Carlos', ignoring the pain that was descending and ascending in his stomach.

They stepped out of the elevator, into the lobby, and made their way to the direction of the concierge. Behind the desk sat a man talking on the phone.

Logan spoke up once the man hung up, "Do you know a good restaurant close to here?"

The man nodded and opened a book full of tiny, typed letters. "Ah, what kind of restaurante está buscando?"

"Excuse me?" Logan questioned, furrowing his brows.

"What restaurant? What kind, what kind?"

Logan turned to Carlos. "What kind?"

Carlos put a finger on his chin and thought deeply. "One that has corn dogs!"

Logan smiled and he turned back to the concierge. "Uh, any that has corn dogs?" he answered, embarrassed.

The man held in a mocking laugh, and instead raised his black eyebrows. "Let me see…" He skimmed through the book, tracing his finger on every page. "Ah! Consider the Italiano restaurante: Bar One. They don't sell corn dogs, no los venden, but delicious pizza and the pasta, yes. Es muy delicioso. A place for a quick eating remedy."

"Where is it located?" Logan asked.

"Ah, at the street of, ah, Queen West. It is already open for customers. It is not that far away," the man answered.

"Thank you," responded Logan as he signaled for Carlos to follow him.

Minutes later, after another difficult process of trying to catch a taxi, they had finally caught one. As Logan and Carlos entered the taxi, and the driver turned his head around, both the brunette and the driver's eyes went wide.

"You again!" they both simultaneously shouted.

The driver turned around and glared at the streets. "Where to?"

"Bar One at Queen West," muttered Logan, disappointed.

It was a quiet ride. The taxi stopped and both the boys got out, Logan paying the rude driver for the second time. They entered the restaurant calmly, and immediately were surrounded by the mouth-watering smell of Italian food.

"Oh, man. Smells good. Now I'm _really_ hungry!" exclaimed Carlos, a string of drool coming out of the corner of his mouth.

"I could've satisfied you," snapped Logan.

Carlos rolled his eyes. "After I eat," he said innocently.

They looked around. As the name of the restaurant described briefly, it was a small, yet classy bar that had a tranquil atmosphere.

"Hello, may I help you?" the voice of a female asked.

"Can we sit?" questioned Logan impatiently. All he wanted to do was eat, get out, and have Carlos _all_ to himself in their own hotel room.

"Follow me," said the woman.

They sat on the stools and menus were given to them. Carlos opened it, scanning rapidly through each laminated page. "I'll have a pizza!" he shouted to no one in particular.

"What do you need? Are you boys ready to order?" a man with a twenty's aged look asked as he wiped a glass with a towel.

"I want the portobello!" exclaimed Carlos.

"And I'll have…the mushroom agnolotti. Please," responded Logan.

"Okay…" said the bartender, writing the orders. "And to drink?"

"What do you have?" asked Logan.

"We have beer, red wine, but…from the look of you two, I'll get you both an Iced Tea." He smiled and hung up the order on a small window.

**ooo**

That night, Logan had Carlos on top of him as the raven pushed himself up and went back down.

"Oh, Logan…" Carlos moaned, putting his hands on the pale boy's chest. "Ha… So good… Ah! Harder…" He moaned again, the sound music to Logan's ears. "L-Logan…I-I lo–"

A loud sound, similar to a shrill, suddenly burst into Logan's ears, causing Carlos' words to get cut off and disappear in his mind.

"What?" Logan demanded.

"I lo–"

The same sound.

"_What?_"

"I lo–"

He woke up. His face was extremely feverish and he felt his whole body tremble. Logan felt tears well up in his eyes.

_Almost_. Carlos had _almost_ said those three words. Even if it was just a vivid dream, he'd give anything to hear those three words in that voice he adored too much. Thinking about this made him sob heavier. He hasn't heard Carlos' charming voice ever since two days ago, counting out the day of the incident; it wasn't a year to compare, but it was complete torment for him. He longed for it, suddenly. He wanted to hear that voice calling out his name while they cheered in the hockey game—which had never happened.

As he kept sobbing, the same shrill from his dream returned. Logan stood up, wiping the tears from his eyes. Weakly, he focused his hearing on the sound and found out that it was coming from inside. Cautiously, he entered through the back door of the hospital. He wasn't patient enough to take the elevator, and so he ascended the stairs, each step getting him nearer to the shrill that seemed to come from the second floor. He walked casually when he reached a hall where it was swarming with doctors, nurses and patients.

Finally, he reached an empty hallway and the shrill seemed to be close. It was eerie that no one was in _this_ hallway, seeming as the shrill was getting even more strident by the second. Then again, it was tucked in the farthest corner of the hospital, but that still didn't explain why it was, perhaps, only affecting _him_. Turning around the corner, the shrill practically shredded his ear drums apart. Looking around, he gradually recognized the hall. And he recognized another shocking thing. The shrilling sound was coming from Carlos' room. Logan shuffled his feet, going deeper in the hallway. The shrill almost left him deaf, and all the while, his heart was pounding furiously in his chest.

* * *

**A/N:** Basically, this chapter shows how everything would've happened in Logan's point of view, if they'd gone to Canada _and _if he were together with Carlos.


	12. The Full Glass

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Big Time Rush.

**Warning: **Logan/Carlos. (Italics = Flashback)

**Twelve – The Full Glass**

He felt himself move slower. The shrill was tearing him apart. Coming face to face with Carlos' room's door, he put a hand on the doorknob and turned it around, but it wouldn't budge. The shrill kept clawing at his ears, which desperately triggered an idea in his mind to slam against the door, until it opened just a bit. Logan stopped when he heard voices shouting inside, panicked, with a hint of worry. He calmed down his breath and put his hand on the door, listening to the screeching words.

"What is going on with him? What did you do!" shouted Person One.

"I-I don't know! I-I was just re-filling the IV when all of a sudden he started to scream!" answered Person Two, scared.

Both were female, and so Logan guessed they were the nurses from before—the ones who were 'testing' Carlos. His body quivered once again, and he hid behind a wall when he heard footsteps move towards the door. Both nurses looked bewildered as they stepped out.

"I don't know how this is possible! Just ignore it; it'll probably go away later. Follow me, and _don't_ say anything. Let's just hope he doesn't get louder. The other hallways are not within hearing range, and we will have to make sure _no one_ goes here until he shuts up," said Nurse One.

Nurse Two nodded and they both made a hasty walk, away from the shrilling hallway. Quickly, Logan entered the room, and locked it securely. Turning around, he saw Carlos' form writhing all over the bed, his mouth open to reveal the awful shrill. The breathing mask was still on him, but it wasn't enough to keep the shrill from getting heavily muffled. Logan covered his ears and made his way towards Carlos. He gritted his teeth and stared at his friend, who looked completely _scared_.

Not crazy, like the nurses had suggested, but absolutely crawling with fear. He could see the paleness in Carlos' face, eyebrows scrunched very tense, though his eyes were still tightly shut. Bracing himself, Logan took his hands from his ears, and the shrill came shooting into his mind like a bullet as he tried to stop the raven from further attacks.

"Carlos! It's me—Logan. It's okay, you're safe," shouted Logan over the continuous shrill, putting his hands over Carlos' jerking body. "I'm here… I told you I'd keep you safe…because I love you."

Carlos continued to flail, but slowly, ceased his distorting movements. The shrill died down and Logan's ears were finally at peace. He let out a breath, staring at Carlos, who was now still, breathing heavily then lightly to Logan's touch. Logan let out another deep breath. It's as if those words had some kind of spark to it. At the moment he'd said them, Carlos had stopped, but he couldn't _believe_ it. Carlos had to be awake to hear them, so why would it be assumed that those three words would have affected him?

"Carlos…?" Logan whispered, hoping the convulsion might be but a pre-experience before awaking. "Can you hear me?"

There was no answer, and his hope fell back into the fearful abyss along with his tampered feelings. He gulped and stroked the bruised arm that had once been flailing in mighty fear. He wanted badly for the arm to twitch, at least, and reveal that the raven was, in reality, awake. He actually yearned for it and wanted nothing more for Carlos to wrap his arms around his neck, and he would wrap his arms around the small waist, and keep him in an embrace so loving that would make the raven gasp.

But this was just an idea that was roughly at the top of his mind. The others, deeply lewd, were buried within his restricted thoughts, which were trying to overcome him. And he wanted for that to happen, to see Carlos' eyes glazed on him, pleading for _more_, but the experience of last night had left him questioning every single thought that flew into his mind.

_The room had become taciturn when Carlos' staggering breath had passed. He was asleep on Logan's chest, which said boy had previously called his mother to inform her that he would be staying the night at Carlos' home, and she had approved. It was around eleven as Logan stared at his precious crush. Carlos' eyes were closed, mouth hanging slightly open as he snored quietly. His mouth twitched followed by his nose, and then he stirred around in Logan's arms._

_Logan, gently, put his chin on the slumbering boy's shoulder, and kissed his cheek. Though the peck was too quick to be felt while being in a state of sleep, Carlos' eyelids fluttered open in a sluggish manner, and he looked up at his pale-skinned friend. He blinked, not aware of his full surroundings. Cradling himself deeper into the warm arms, Carlos gasped._

_"__James?" he wondered tiredly, placing his cheek on Logan's collarbone. He didn't get an answer and he repeated, "James? James, is that…you?" He yawned in between the sentence._

_"__No… It's me—Logan."_

_"__Oh, yeah," Carlos said, remembering what had happened a few hours ago. "Thanks, Logan. I, uh, kinda feel better now… Heh… Um…"_

_Realizing he was in the tight hold of his best friend, Carlos pulled away and instead buried himself underneath his comforter. He looked at Logan who was staring at him with a concerned look._

_"__What?" Carlos asked._

_Logan rubbed his arm and looked away before returning his face back to Carlos with a hard gaze. "What did Nat say to you?" he whispered, knowing every one of Carlos' family members was asleep._

_Carlos didn't speak and turned the other way, avoiding Logan's eyes._

_"__I promise I won't tell Kendall or James. No one," Logan assured._

_"__It's not that. He told me things that were true…"_

_"__What do you mean?" Logan's expression of concern was engraved deeper into his face._

_Carlos waited a few seconds again before answering with whispers that took all of Logan's ear strength to be able to hear, "H-he told me…that I was a loser, that I wouldn't amount up to anything, and that I should commit suicide," his voice broke at the last word._

_"__But that's not true," consoled Logan, petting Carlos' hair._

_"__That's the point," Carlos choked out. "I believed him, Logan. I'm really stupid, aren't I?"_

_Logan shook his head and he got off the bed. He kneeled down on the carpet in front Carlos, and frowned once he saw the raven's face full of fresh and dry tears. The light had been left on, and so he could also spot the heavy pink on Carlos' cheeks, nose, and forehead. Carlos blinked and looked at him, tears dripping down on Logan's hand. He wiped away the tears from Carlos' face, and faintly smiled._

_"__That's not true," he said with a sincere tone. "You're not stupid, Carlos. You're a great guy, and fun to be with. Sure, you might not be the wittiest of all, but at least you contain one thing that jerk, Nat, will _never_ have—a heart." He pulled out Carlos' hand from under the comforter, and held it. Tears continued to drip out of the raven's eyes. "Out of all the people I know, you have the biggest heart. I love it when it flutters when you get scared, or when it swells up when you're happy. But right now all I can hear is a steady beat, and it's emotionless. It's more settling when it beats around with a feeling."_

_Carlos blinked again and squeezed Logan's hand. "You're so fruity," he giggled frailly, worn down from the many tears he had shed._

_Logan smiled. "Yeah, but at least I'm telling the _truth_."_

_Carlos closed his eyes tightly when he saw that Logan was leaning in. Then, he felt soft lips upon his forehead. _

_He opened his eyes and gave a half sad, half disturbed look. "What'd you do that for?"_

_Logan kissed Carlos' hand and the raven blushed. "Just felt like the right thing to do." He continued to smile, but it faltered just a bit. "And, um, don't ever __commit suicide because you'll break thousands of hearts if you do. Okay?"_

_"__Gosh, now you sound fruity _and_ cheesy," said Carlos, burying his face in his pillow._

_It was surprising, though, that he still hadn't let go of Logan's hand._

_"__Logan?" His voice was muffled by the pillow._

_"__Yeah?"_

_"__Thank you…so much. I-I…um… Th-thank you."_

_"__You want me to leave?"_

_Carlos lifted his head from the pillow and smiled. "No, really. Thank you _so_ much. If it wasn't for you I wouldn't be going to school tomorrow."_

_"__I'm glad to help," said Logan, giving Carlos a kiss on the cheek._

_Carlos scowled. "Stop being so fruity. Seriously, dude." Yet underneath that scowl, he contained _another_ blush that he wanted to hide._

_"__Sorry. Impulsive," answered Logan, pulling his hand away from Carlos' and climbing back on the bed._

_He snuggled close to the raven under the comforter, and all the while, Carlos' face had gotten extremely hot as he felt Logan's breath on his neck. He found it weird, but at the same time, he found it oddly right._

Logan gave up as he knew that Carlos wasn't going to answer him any time soon. Carlos was back to his normal sleeping state—mute and immotile.

"Don't tell me nothing is wrong because I heard something," said a voice outside the door.

Logan distinctly recalled the voice that belonged to Carlos' doctor. Promptly, he jumped onto his bed, wrapped himself with the bed sheet, and pretended to sleep. The doorknob rattled.

"What– Why does it not _open?_ Are you hiding something from me, Nurse Ruth?" demanded the doctor, continuing to rattle the doorknob.

"Oh, no…" thought Logan, remembering that he had locked the door.

"S-sir, absolutely not, never," lied the nurse.

"Well let's just see. You better be telling the truth, Nurse Ruth," said the doctor.

The doorknob had ceased to rattle, and there was a sound of keys bumping against each other, then a faint click was heard seconds later. Logan kept his eyes closed, listening instead.

"Hm, everything seems to be in order… Oh, look. The young boy is sleeping. Nurse Ruth, go inform Nurse Ellen that he is asleep in Carlos Garcia's room. She's been a lunatic ever since she panicked that the boy was not where she left him."

There was another click as the door closed.

"I know you're awake," said Carlos' doctor. "You're not fooling me, child."

Logan grunted and opened his eyes, sitting up on his bed. The doctor had his arms crossed over his chest, an inscrutable expression on his face. Logan noticed that he seemed to look much younger than Doctor Reynolds.

"And?" countered Logan.

Carlos' doctor sighed. "I know you are worried for the boy, but you have to be patient. He is recovering slowly."

Logan glared at the doctor. He wanted to brusquely answer about the episode of Carlos' outburst, but his Alternate Voice suddenly awoke, and stopped him from revealing what was to be unsaid. He flashbacked to the two shouting nurses and grunted in his mind.

Carlos' doctor noticed the brunette's strange expression. "Is there something you need to say?"

Logan shook his head, refusing to part his lips and reveal his cryptic thoughts.

"Well I hope that he wakes up soon, too. In all honesty, I say, all my patients, half of them of which are in a coma…" The word stung Logan. "They have all turned well. I give you my virtuous word."

Logan kept silent.

Carlos' doctor sighed again. "Alright, well, I'll leave you two alone. By the way, Doctor Reynolds will be coming in to give you your medicine. Make sure you stay here because he'll be arriving in about two minutes."

"I won't be taking it," said Logan when the doctor exited.

He looked at Carlos and took his limp hand in his hold. Logan held it tightly, and as he did this, he thought he felt Carlos' hand twitch. His heart began to thump rapidly in his chest. The tiny action didn't happen twice, but it gave him such a harsh effect. He squeezed Carlos' hand and suppressed many tears. All of a sudden, Carlos began stirring around on the bed. Logan's eyes went wide as Carlos' hand quivered and his eyes opened slightly before he froze again and his eyes shut all too quickly, as if being forced to.

Logan went into a state of sudden paralysis, but gradually recovered. He let go of Carlos' hand, climbed onto the raven's bed, and checked his pulse by pressing two fingers against his neck. He grabbed Carlos' arm, and shook it slightly, but no movements answered. Just then, Doctor Reynolds came in, a glass of water in his hand.

"What's wrong?" asked Doctor Reynolds as he saw that Logan had Carlos' arm in his hands, clutching it firmly.

Logan looked gravely at Carlos' closed eyes. His mouth opened slightly, and he answered with a mere, shocked whisper, "H-he's awake."

The doctor frowned, and ignored Logan's words. "Here. Take your medicine."

The brunette didn't obey him, and kept squeezing Carlos' arm. "He's awake! I don't know. I-I just _know_ that he is. Carlos? Can you hear me? Carlos?"

Doctor Reynolds shook his head. "Nonsense. Impossible. Just take your pill, and be done with it. "

"I'm not going to drink that, and I didn't last time!" Logan confessed. "Quit trying to poison me! I'm telling the truth, _please_. He's _awake_," he said, a pleading look in his eyes.

Doctor Reynolds slammed the glass on a table, making water spill on the wood. "I'll bring Doctor Morgan."

Continuing to observe Carlos, Logan couldn't help but grimace. Nurse Ellen had been right—Doctor Reynolds, first seen in the day Logan woke up, had been friendly; perhaps it had been a phony act manipulated to lure the brunette to fall in his trap. Logan wasn't exactly sure what the trap _was_, but he knew enough to not trust Doctor Reynolds. Even his Alternate Voice seemed to agree, a rare thing at that. After a few minutes, Doctor Reynolds returned with Carlos' doctor following from behind.

"What's the problem?" asked Doctor Morgan, looking not at Doctor Reynolds, but at Logan, who was still clutching Carlos' arm.

Carlos' doctor was the opposite of Doctor Reynolds. At first, he'd been judgmental and irrational, then his act had quickly transferred to sympathetic and understandable. Logan grew _barely_ inclined to Doctor Morgan, and he figured because he was actually _Carlos'_ doctor. Doctor Reynolds only wanted to keep him under 'control', which was a tremendous insult to frown highly upon, figured Logan. Primarily, he wasn't fond of his _own_ doctor.

"He's awake," said Logan, his hold getting tighter for every word that he spoke.

Doctor Morgan furrowed his eyebrows. He looked at Doctor Reynolds, who shook his head at him. Doctor Morgan gave him a disapproving face and returned his eyes to Logan. "Well, it is possible. I've had few patients that seem to resemble his condition. You mean awake as in subconsciously. A person can respond to touch while in a coma, involuntary, or, rarely, _voluntarily_, and also have the ability to hear. What happened?"

"His hand moved," answered Logan, purposely leaving out the part of Carlos' writhing, and the opening of his eyes.

Doctor Morgan rubbed his chin. "Hm, yes, he's shown vague signs of it… Have you tried speaking to him?"

"No," Logan fibbed, still looking at Carlos, dodging the doctor's stares.

Doctor Morgan nodded. "All I can say is that, once again, do _not_ interact with him quite so often. You can damage something, believe it or not, and not be aware of it."

"Don't forget to take your medicine," said Doctor Reynolds as they exited.

Reluctantly, Logan let go of Carlos and walked towards the glass filled with water. Beside it was a pill. He took the pill and threw it in the small trashcan by the door, then drank the whole glass of water. That done, he was thinking of calling for breakfast, but ignored the plead from his stomach and sat crisscrossed on his bed. He growled, rubbing his temples.

"Dammit, my head hurts…" He looked at Carlos with a gloomy face.

For a second, he saw Carlos' eyes flutter open again—while his resting expression remained unchanging—dart around the room, and then they closed. Logan, in dread, was on the verge of tears. He didn't know why, though, and he just let the emotions spill like the water that had previously been in the glass.

* * *

**A/N:** I was in a fluffy mood while writing this…even though this isn't fluffy at all…kind of, lol.


	13. Get Well Soon

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Big Time Rush.

**Warning: **Contains slight cursing. Logan/Carlos. (Italics = Flashback)

**Thirteen – Get Well Soon**

He felt completely anxious, distraught and infuriated. If Carlos was awake then surely he could hear.

"Carlos, can you _hear_ me?"

It was stupid that he thought that Carlos would answer him instantly. But his heart hammered in his chest when the raven's hand twitched when Logan called out his name. He had been right. Carlos was awake, and he hated to admit it—but he was _subconsciously_ awake. It was a possibility though, that the movements were actually involuntary, and the answers were but mere consequential movements. Overall, Logan tried something new, which would break Doctor Morgan's rules of not interacting with the hibernating raven.

"Carlos…if you can understand me, move your index finger," said Logan quietly.

Carlos' hand remained inert, and Logan felt his hope sink again. He sighed, but as he was about to bury himself beneath the fresh new sheets a nurse had brought for him minutes ago, he spotted a slight movement. He looked at Carlos' hand, and his middle finger was hardly twitching. Logan smiled lightly, uplifted just by a small movement. His hope rose up again. Even when being in a state of profound dormancy, Carlos would still be a jokester.

"That's rude," said Logan.

Carlos' index finger twitched. Logan continued to smile. "Are you feeling okay?" His hand didn't move, and Logan figured Carlos' wounds were still ripping him apart with the unexplainable pain. "Where does it hurt? Index for head, pinky for stomach, thumb for legs." All of Carlos' fingers twitched.

A wistful look crossed over Logan's face. He loathed it when Carlos would be hurt, a phrase uttered countless times in his thoughts. He remembered a time when it was supposedly Carlos' bad luck day, and Logan had gone overly protective. Just the tiniest of problems could make the brunette worry over his friend.

_The alarm clock went off and both Carlos and Logan woke up abruptly to the loud sound. Carlos was the one who got severely startled, which caused him to slip off his bed, and fall on the floor with a loud thud. Carlos groaned and rolled on the ground, clutching his head. He squeezed his eyes shut, and waited for the pain of the sudden headache to die down. As Logan fully woke up, he languidly looked around from left to right. When he got to the bottom, he saw Carlos rolling on the floor, clutching his head, eyes closed tightly and teeth gritted._

_"__Carlos!" exclaimed Logan, making his way to the floor, and trying to stop his friend from wriggling further more. "Wh– Are you okay?" he asked desperately, alarm in his voice as the raven continued to clutch his head._

_Carlos groaned, and gradually sat up. "I hit…my head…on the floor…" he wheezed._

_Logan bit his lip and rubbed Carlos' head, but the raven ended up giving him a weird look, so he stopped. Carlos sighed once his headache had receded, and stood up._

_"__What time is it?" asked Carlos weakly as he sat on his messy bed._

_Logan looked at the digital clock. "Five thirty."_

_Carlos' eyes went open wide. "Whoa. That's way too early, dude."_

_Logan smirked. "Gives us more time to prepare. We could arrive early at school today."_

_Carlos raised his eyebrows. "And confuse Kendall and James?"_

_"__Sure," responded Logan, rubbing his neck._

_In truth, he just wanted to be alone with the boy before the other two arrived. Sometimes, just trying to be alone with Carlos without being noticed was too hard. Logan continued to muse over this, and after a few seconds he snapped back and saw that Carlos was taking off his shirt, showing off his caramel skin. Logan's face went deeply red as Carlos began unbuckling his jeans, and they dropped down around his knees. He was about to kick them off when Logan spoke up._

_"__W-what are you doing?" he said, trying to make his blush fade away._

_Carlos looked at him with a neutral expression. "Getting ready to take a shower," he answered. Then his face brightened. "Want to take it with me?"_

_Logan's face turned into a deeper shade of red. "N-no, th-that's okay. I'll take one after you're done."_

_"__Okay," said Carlos, and he kicked off his pants and entered his bathroom._

_Logan sank on the floor, utterly dazed. He knew that when they were younger him and Carlos used to take baths together, and very often at that. It would be kind of awkward to take a _shower_ with him, now that they were both…grownup with puberty and other _private_ terms. He didn't dare to think about it, and he was blushing from head to toe. Hormones were complicated, Logan decided. Worst of all, a bulge had formed in his pants, being suffocated, and begging to be let out._

_"__Get it together, Logan," the brunette said to himself, hiding his face in his hands._

_It had been ten minutes later when the door of the bathroom opened, the steam coming out in swirls. Logan peaked through his hands and saw a view that made the bothersome bulge in his pants grow bigger. Carlos' body was gleaming rich with his caramel colour, water droplets on his skin and damp hair. The only thing that prevented Logan from going erotically mad was the white towel wrapped around Carlos' waist. He gulped and ran into the bathroom, which was still humid from Carlos' shower._

_"__Logan?" Carlos spoke._

_Logan locked the door and slid down the wet wall. "Y-yes?"_

_"__I kind of used up the hot water… You don't mind the cold, do you?" questioned Carlos._

"_N-no," Logan stuttered._

_After he'd taken a slightly icy shower, Carlos had let him borrow his clothes, including boxers, and once again, Logan tried extremely hard to hide his blush. They gathered their backpacks, and headed out._

_"__Buenos días, Carlos." Carlos' mother blocked their escape to the front door. "Oh, hello, Logan."_

_"__Hi, Mrs. Garcia," responded Logan, waving sheepishly._

_"__I didn't know you stayed over," she said with an edged tone._

_"__Well, he did!" exclaimed Carlos, smiling, while grabbing Logan's hand._

_"Next time, warn me before you stay over," Carlos' mother commented._

_"Uh-huh, yeah, whatever," said Carlos, and Logan nodded._

_Mrs. Garcia stepped out of the way, and let the two make their exit. While heading out, they both noticed that the sky was a dark blue with a tinge of yellow sunrise, though the moon was still up._

_Carlos let go of Logan's hand, and looked at his red wristwatch. "It's six!"_

_"__Yeah," said Logan. "We'll get there in about thirty minutes."_

_"__Not if we run!" Carlos chuckled and began sprinting, getting feet away from Logan._

_His running was spirited, but blind, because he didn't notice the crack that he tripped on seconds later. Carlos cried out when his body hit the coarse cement, skinning him all over through the cloth of his shirt and jeans. He grunted and stood up, brushing his scraped hands on his dusty jeans. Logan came, out of breath, and his eyes widened when he saw Carlos bleeding all over._

_"__Carlos…you're…wha…heh…?" Logan breathed, almost to the point of blacking out from the lack of oxygen._

_Carlos growled, "Is it Friday the thirteenth today?"_

_"__No…" Logan tried to regain his breath back. "It's…Tuesday."_

_"__I've been having bad luck since I woke up. Next what? I'll be struck by lightning!" he yelled, but his eyes went suddenly big. "Oh, my God—struck by lightning! That would be so cool! C'mon, c'mon—make it rain!" he demanded, scowling at the waking sky._

_Logan sighed. "Let's go. I need to get you cleaned up."_

_"__Huh? What?" wondered Carlos stupidly, flinching when Logan's hand wrapped itself around his scratched arm._

_Overall, Carlos' idiotic wish had been granted, but they arrived inside the school just in time when the rain came pouring down heavily, and lighting had begun to strike the air. Logan held Carlos by his sleeve, dragging him deeper into the school._

_"__Where are we going?" asked Carlos, a questioning expression on his face._

_"__To the restroom," answered Logan._

_"__Why?"_

_Logan didn't answer him. They entered the restroom, and the brunette began to wet some paper towels. Once he was done, he abruptly lifted Carlos' arm and started to dab at the bleeding skin underneath. Carlos cringed at the touch of the rough, but wet, paper. Logan kept a stern face as he lifted Carlos' other arm, and began to clean up the blood._

_"__I can do this by myself," said Carlos, wincing more._

_"__You can, but you won't," replied Logan. Carlos scowled, and Logan smiled at him. "Lift your shirt up."_

_"__H-huh?" Carlos' eyes widened just a bit._

_"__Dude, you have blood on your shirt. I need to clean your stomach, too."_

_Logan thought he saw the raven's cheeks go red for just a fraction of a second, before Carlos' cheeks puffed and he lifted his shirt to reveal a gruesome scrape. Logan grabbed another paper towel and wet it, beginning to dab at the wounded skin. As he was doing this, someone came in._

_"__What the–" Both Logan and Carlos' heads turned to find a boy who was looking at them with a disturbed expression. "Man, what a couple of gay fucks," he sneered._

_"__We're not gay," growled Carlos, twisting his body to pounce at the boy, but Logan's nails scraping on his stomach stopped him._

_"__Stay _still_," said Logan while giving a quick, staid expression at the boy with the insults._

_The boy smirked. "Hey, Carlos, I heard Nat's got a surprise for you today."_

_"__Yeah? Well, I have a surprise for him, too. I'm going to beat the cr–"_

_"__Carlos!" shouted Logan, pinching the rave's skin again._

_Carlos quickly turned around, frowning as Logan finished up the cleaning. The other boy cursed, and walked out the restroom with a mocking laugh._

_"__Can you believe it, Logan? That turd called us gay! N-not that it's wrong, but still. We're not!" exclaimed Carlos as he pulled his shirt down._

_"__No, I can't," responded Logan absentmindedly as he threw the paper towel in the trashcan._

_"__What? What are you talking about?" Carlos raised his eyebrows._

_Realizing what he had just said, Logan shook his head. "Sorry, I was thinking about something else. Um, your jeans—I gotta clean your legs, too."_

_He wetted another wad of paper towels as Carlos pulled up his jeans, showing off his bloody knees. The cleaning process was silent, and as Logan kept cleaning, Carlos had been thinking about his friend's _supposedly_ wrong answer. He failed to understand what was meant._

_"__Done," muttered Logan, throwing the dirty paper towels in the trashcan, and rolling down Carlos' stained jeans._

_"__It still hurts," said Carlos, making a face._

_Logan looked at him with a half-concerned face. "Do you want to be bandaged, too? I can use the toilet paper to…"_

_"__Sure," answered Carlos, lifting up his shirt._

_"__What? Only your stomach?" asked Logan as he entered a stall, and came out with a roll of toilet paper._

_"__Yep." Carlos nodded._

_Carlos watched as Logan began wrapping the toilet paper around his stomach. Logan smiled, and finished it with a heart-shaped knot. But Carlos didn't notice, because the knot was done on his back. He smiled secretly to himself, and stepped in front of Carlos._

_"__There you go."_

_For the second time, Carlos put his shirt down. "Thanks…"_

_"__We…should head out now. James and Kendall are probably looking for us," said Logan, shyly smiling at the raven._

_Carlos agreed, and they both exited the restroom. The warm embrace of the bandage on Carlos' stomach was making the shorter boy feel butterflies in his stomach._

"Carlos–" Logan hesitated, feeling if what he was about to ask the raven was right or not. He asked it anyway—he didn't want to be consciously beaten every time he saw Carlos for not speaking up the question. "Do you remember what happened in the plane?"

Logan waited. Ten seconds. Thirty seconds. One minute. Two minutes. Carlos' index finger twitched.

"Where did you go?"

He knew the question was not answerable because Carlos didn't have the ability to speak. But he still felt compelled to ask it, and many times more, and make Carlos feel guilty for leaving him at the dreadful time of the crash. Yet, he didn't want to do that—it would be cruel and insensitive. It would also hurt Carlos—one of the things he'd been trying to avoid these past few days that ultimately felt like many agonizing years. Carlos' hand twitched once, and Logan wished he knew what he meant by that. After that, Logan felt his stomach rumble. He couldn't avoid his hunger anymore. His stomach was practically _begging _for him…for food. He wished that was Carlos begging for…him.

**ooo**

A nurse came in and placed the tray on him, then left. Logan looked at the tray. It had a creamy-white, thick soup, a slice of bread, a glass of orange juice, and one thing that made him feel anxious. Chocolate pudding. Logan groaned. He ignored the pudding throughout his breakfast eating. Slowly, he stood up and headed for the bathroom, and looked in the mirror. He looked better. The cuts on his face were still visible, but not as gruesome as before. His hair was still as flat as ever, but he could care _less_ about his appearance at this moment. The purple bags remained under his eyes, permanent as ever. All in all, he still looked terrible.

Immediately, Logan exited the room, and began searching through every window of every room. He needed to find Doctor Reynolds. He tried to remain as calm as possible as he entered the elevator, and pressed the number one button. Along with him was a tall man, one who had the exact aspects of a young doctor.

"Do you, by any chance, are familiar with the whereabouts of Doctor Reynolds?" asked Logan in the best professional voice he had. He felt uneasy, but he couldn't blurt out nonsense, which would gain him nothing.

The man looked down at him. "What is your business with him?"

"I'm one of his patients," responded Logan.

"Do you not have to be in your room?"

The man had this English accent that, if it wasn't for all the wrongs that had happened in the last few days, would've interested Logan, but it didn't. Instead he took it as an offence, and the accent just rang clearly with cockiness.

"It's an emergency," said Logan.

"What are you doing—wandering around here without supervision?" the English man kept questioning.

"Do you know where Doctor Reynolds is or _not_?" Logan half-yelled, digging his nails in the thin cloth of his hospital robe.

The man stared at him, startled, but regained his composure. "He is going to perform surgery in room four hundred. He is really bus–" Logan quickly pressed the number four button. The English man scowled. "I had already done that, fool." Logan looked at the English man with a weird look, and the English man answered his unsaid question, "I am Doctor Reynolds' assistant, Matthew. Please, do not interrupt, for he is about t–"

The elevator doors opened and Logan walked out, looking at the maps on the walls to know for which direction to head to.

"Hey, hooligan, don't go fur–"

Logan found the door and opened it. Upon arriving, he was greeted by surprised faces from doctors and nurses and a naked male body on a bed, face peeled everywhere, and stomach punctured to reveal intestines, blood and bones. He shuddered at the form, but remembered what he was here for. He searched for Doctor Reynolds' face, but he was nowhere to be seen. The door opened, and in came the one and only Doctor Reynolds with the assistant, Matthew, trailing from behind, severely out of breath. As Doctor Reynolds spotted Logan, the lips of his corners dropped down to form a frown.

"What are you doing here?" demanded Doctor Reynolds, coming in the room. Matthew jumped in right before the door was smashed shut. "You are not supposed to be here! Who told you where I was?"

At the doctor's enraged question, Matthew went red in the face, and rubbed his arm.

"I want to know when is the earliest day I can get out of here," demanded Logan.

Doctor Reynolds let out a huff, seeming as the only way to get rid of the boy was to answer his persistent question. "Wednesday," he answered.

Logan processed the information and walked out, his shoulder brushing against the assistant. Now all he needed was Doctor Morgan's answer. He didn't know how, but he had the strong feeling of where Carlos' doctor would be.

**ooo**

He entered the cafeteria, and the smell of stir fry wafted itself into his nose. The place was quiet, mostly because it was early. Logan looked around and spotted Doctor Morgan sitting at a table, taking a bite out of a sandwich. He walked up to him and sat down on one of the chairs of the table, making the doctor halt on his chewing. He gulped, and put the sandwich down.

"What is it now?" asked Doctor Morgan, trying his best to not shoo the brunette away out of hunger.

Logan clasped his hands and put them on the table, roughly staring at Doctor Morgan. "If Carlos were to wake up–"

The doctor interrupted, "Subconsciously."

"No," said Logan with fortitude. "_Consciously—_when is the possibility that he will be able to get out…of here, as _soon_ as possible?"

Doctor Morgan thought. "It depends. If nothing is wrong when he _wakes up_, he'll be able to get out by Friday. If there is something wrong, then we will have to test him, and extend the date of his release."

Logan's heart skipped a beat. He sincerely hoped there wasn't anything wrong when Carlos woke up.

"What…do you mean by _wrong?_"

Doctor Morgan looked at Logan unsurely, while the boy waited for the relevance of the predictable news.

* * *

**A/N:** Aw, a heart-knot… Haha, I'm such a sucker for fluff.


	14. An Erratic Mistake

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Big Time Rush.

**Warning: **Contains minor physical abuse. Logan/Carlos. (Italics = Flashback)

**Fourteen – An Erratic Mistake**

Logan gripped the sides of his chair as Doctor Morgan opened his mouth. "It is possible that he could suffer from am–"

"Doctor Morgan! Doctor Morgan! Patient Karen Smith is–"

"I'll get to it," said Carlos' doctor. He looked at Logan with a true, apologetic face. "We'll have to talk some other time."

He grabbed his sandwich, threw it in the trashcan, and began walking away. Logan grabbed his arm, which made the doctor turn his head back, giving him a determined stare, which made the fair-skinned boy let go. Logan watched as Doctor Morgan walked away with, what seemed, a male nurse. He growled. He needed to know that nothing would be wrong with Carlos when he woke up. Absolutely _nothing_.

"Hi, mister!"

Switching back to reality, Logan saw the little girl from before—Helena—sitting in the spot where Doctor Morgan had been previously eating, munching on a jelly donut. As she bit down, a bit of the jelly squirted out, splattering all over her nose, looking like fresh blood. Logan's face went paler, but he recovered.

"Hello…" he answered, giving the girl a skeptical expression.

"What're you doing here all alone, mister?" asked Helena with a mouthful of strawberry jelly.

"Grieving," answered Logan.

The girl looked about six or seven, so he was sure that by using words she didn't understand it would drive her to boredom, and she would walk away after a few minutes of struggling with his intellectual vocabulary.

"Why?" she continued.

Logan slumped in his chair, and sighed. "Because my…friend is—uh, in hibernation."

"You mean a coma?" the girl said, gulping her chewed donut.

Logan's eyes went a bit wide at this. "Y-yes." He had to learn to accept the truth somehow, even if it was coming from a completely odd, little girl.

"My daddy is in a coma, too. But I think he'll wake up _really_ soon." She grinned, and took another bite out of her donut. "Is your boyfriend's name Carlos? Like my daddy?" questioned Helena.

Logan stared at her. "Um, he's my friend, and yes, that is his name."

The girl shook her head. "Nu-uh, mister. He's your _boy_friend. You love him so much, and if you didn't, you wouldn't be here."

"That's because I'm hurt, too…" corrected Logan.

"But you wouldn't be staying with him if you didn't love him. You would've stayed in _your_ room." She smiled.

Logan eyes went big once again, and he stuttered, "H-how did you know _that?_"

The girl took another bite out of her donut, and looked at him with devious, black eyes. "But he's not really your boyfriend. You wish he was, right?"

Trying to get over the shock, Logan answered, "Yes. I-I…"

He didn't know what to say. For _God's sake_, he was talking about his feelings—ones he had concealed for a really long time now—to a little girl that he had barely met for _one_ minute or less, _yesterday!_ He felt pathetic because of this. He couldn't squeak out to Carlos that he loved him, but he could to a little kid that probably didn't even recognize he was from Big Time Rush; after this thought he felt a bit conceited, yet it didn't bother him that much, strangely.

"Because you love him, right?" she said.

"Yes," he whispered.

Now he felt angry. What did this damn little girl know about _love?_ He's the one who's hidden his feelings for years now. Each and every second spent with Carlos was utter agony for him. It had been ripping him to shreds inside that he's never had the courage to confess—unknowing to Carlos, he has been tearing Logan's heart in half each and every second for every word that he spoke, face expression that he made, and worst of all, his body language. Carlos also didn't know about Logan's breakdowns.

_"__Whoa, what happened to you?" both Kendall and James asked, looking at Carlos' blood-stained clothes._

_"__Oh… I fell," Carlos answered, picking at his lunch._

_It was currently lunch time, and the boys were sitting at a table outside. It was the only time they had the chance to see each other during school, besides morning and the last period._

_"__Must've been bad," Kendall muttered, half asleep._

_Logan slapped the back of his head. "Wake up! You're wasting your food!"_

_"__Jeez…" Kendall rubbed his head. "You're just like the boy version of that girl—Kaitlin. She's always slapping people for having the wrong answer during math."_

_"__K-Kaitlin? The one with the brown hair?" wondered Carlos._

_"__Yeah," responded Kendall, raising his eyebrow. "Why…?"_

_Carlos grinned. "She's cute."_

_James laughed. "Well don't even think of asking her out. You heard Kendall—she's the girl version of Logan. She'll probably bore you to death if you go out with her!"_

_"__Hey!" Logan scowled. "I'm not boring."_

_"_Really?_" James said sarcastically. "What's_ _the square root of sixty-nine point zero thirty-six?"_

_"__Rounded, it's…eight point thirty-three!" Logan blurted out._

_"__Ha! See? Only a nerd would know the answer to that." James smirked. "And there's your proof, Carlos."_

_Logan scowled deeper. "For your information, Carlos happens to like _everyone_."_

_"__Sure." James rolled his eyes. "Like Carlos would ever date _you_."_

_Seconds later, all the boys' eyes went wide as they processed the words that James had just spoken. All of them began to blush, except for Kendall, who was containing in a loud laugh, and instead snickered._

_"__This is awkward," he said, taking a sip of his chocolate milk._

_Later during seventh period, the past lunch episode had quickly left their minds, except for Logan's. He wondered through the whole class period—if he were to ask Carlos out, would he say yes or no? He decided not to think about it._

"Are you going to lie to him?" asked the girl, popping the last of the donut in her mouth.

"Huh?" Logan gave her a confused expression.

"Don't lie to him," Helena said, stretching herself over the table to touch Logan's arm. "He wouldn't like that."

"Wh-what?" Now Logan's face was covered with abashment. "I would _never_ lie to Carlos."

"Then how come you just told me right now?" Helena had a sad look on her face.

"I didn't say _anything_."

"Of you course you did, silly mister. He wouldn't know anything though, and that's why you'll lie to him."

"What are you talking about?" Logan stared at her, outraged.

"Helena, sweetie, time to go!"

"Oh, my mommy's here!" The girl giggled, waved to Logan and skipped away. "Bye!"

**ooo**

"And our clues are…a box, open, and…a melody!"

It was currently eleven in the morning, and Logan was in Carlos' room, watching television—specifically, Blue's Clues. It gave him a heartache to reminisce that day when Carlos had been so full of energy, watching his favourite show, sharing his (or should it be recognized as Kendall's?) pizza rolls with him. What's horrible was that they were giving the _same _episode of Blue's Clues from that day. Logan sighed, upset, and changed the channel. Appearing on the screen were four people in what looked to be a restaurant. There were two blonde girls, a raven boy, and a brunette boy. The two girls laughed and left, leaving the other two boys alone.

"Those two are crazy, huh? I don't know how you put up with them," said the brunette.

It was quiet for a few seconds before the raven, suddenly, leaned in, and gave the brunette a swift kiss on the lips.

"What was that?" asked the brunette, with a surprisingly cool tone.

"I don't know," answered the raven, shrugging, in time when the two girls returned.

Logan blushed at the scene. He wondered what it would be like if that were him and Carlos. He looked at Carlos, then at the television with the once-kissing boys. The two girls were now gone. Logan changed the channel again. This time, it showed a woman looking in the mirror with a shocked face. Suddenly, another face appeared in the mirror. The woman turned around to face four females, all with ghostly, pale faces, and they all were wet. The females began to move, their ghostly apparition terrifying, causing for the woman to faint. Logan turned off the television. He'd had enough of these stupid shows—shows that didn't even make any sense, and had an unrealistic theme to them.

No boy would be that calm when being kissed by another boy. Then again, he didn't watch the show from the beginning, so he didn't have the right to judge it by its cover. He felt jealous of them, mainly because he knew if he'd ever kiss Carlos like that, then the raven would react with violence. Not that Carlos was prone to violence—and it certainly did not happen during the episode of the super soakers—but that's what Logan thought; he would always choose the worst possible outcome, which was a thing about himself that bothered him greatly.

Ghost—or spirits—just didn't appear out of nowhere, and take over your brain. Then again, he didn't watch the show from the beginning, just like the other one. He compared this to the accidental—or purposeful—intrusion of his other voice. He felt irked and offended, as if being like _that_, or any type of psychic, or whackjob, was a weight far from being enjoyable. This reverted him back to the episode at the cafeteria. The little girl's words had been so affecting, yet mind-numbing.

Earlier, he couldn't answer the question she'd asked, and he couldn't right now. As rational as he thought he was at the moment, he couldn't find the pieces of the Question and Answer puzzle. He found some pieces, of which reminisced the utterance of the molesting word—liar or lies. It was part of the question, but he couldn't find the answer piece that matched with the hateful word.

_"__Don't lie to him. He wouldn't like that… He wouldn't know anything though, and that's why you'll lie to him."_

"What the _hell?_" Logan blurted out.

He was far from furious. He felt as if he'd received an 'F' on a random math test, and then had received a punch from one of his best friends. He turned on the television, desperately trying to get the thoughts out of his head. The movie with the woman showed up, and he quickly transitioned to another channel once again, pressing random numbers. This time, he came across an infomercial.

"And it's made from real diamond and gold. Imagine, this would be the perfect engagement ring," said the host, twirling the ring in her fingers.

"Oh, I wish my husband would have given me that," said the other host, and they both started laughing. "And only for the value of two h–"

The phone rang.

It kept ringing, and seeing that it wasn't going to shut up any time soon, Logan turned off the television, for the second time, and looked at the telephone with ambivalent eyes. Who on _earth_ could be calling? And why _Carlos'_ room? Fear had started to build up in his mind as the phone continued to ring, its taunting sound humming in his ears, a trill melody for every three seconds. Reluctantly, he stood up, and picked up the phone.

"H-hello?" he answered with a falsetto voice, trying his best to disguise it if anything grave was to be happening on the other line.

"Hello? Who is this?" asked the person on the other line. Logan didn't answer, for his lips were trembling much too heavily. "Is this one of the nurses?"

"Y-yes."

"Please inform Doctor Morgan that the test results about Carlos Garcia are ready to be picked up."

Logan's mouth opened a little. "May I have a spare copy? Th-there was a small setback and, and w-we need proof."

"Of course. You can have the extra copy when Doctor Morgan picks it up first."

"N-no. Can you please tell me the results; I have no time to read," said Logan, slightly agitated.

"Um, sure." The person sounded surprised. "What would you like to know?"

"Any…wrongs?" His breathing hitched as he stretched the cord of the phone when he got on Carlos' bed carefully.

"Well, we identified the x-rays, and even with the surgery he still has some brain injury. It is unknown if he is going to recover to his full potential when the coma is over with. There is a possibility that because of brain damage, he could have amnesia. We don't know if this will be temporary or per–"

At that point, the phone dropped from Logan's hand onto the bed, which made the phone disconnect from the wall plug.

He looked at Carlos with sullen eyes, which gradually turned into ones of dismay as the words the woman on the other line had said began to make sense in his mind. His mentality begun to spin around in baffled, heated circles, and his wild instincts took over him. He raised his hand, unable to stop himself, and slapped the sleeping boy right on the cheek, gritting his teeth as he did this. Carlos' body didn't respond with a jerk, only his head was thrown to the side as the hand came into contact with his face.

"How the hell can you have amnesia! Earlier you were moving and twitching, a-and _now_ you have the nerve to _forget?_" screamed Logan. He breathed angrily as his Alternate Voice spoke up. "I don't _care_ anymore! I've been grinding through this problem long enough, and the least I deserve is–" He stopped himself, aware now of what he had just done and spoken. He buried his face into his hands, and breathed out a long, whimpering breath. "Oh, my God…"

That was the first time that he'd physically hurt Carlos—excluding the part when he'd left his nail marks on Carlos' stomach and drew blood during the almost-fully-heated session of Saturday night; so even though the raven was in a deep sleep, there was no telling he could have actually felt it. Right there and then, Logan finally understood. He was a mess. A mess that wouldn't dare disappear unless something drastic was done. But, it was impossible that something could be done to a situation that was already _far_ from being reversible, so that absurd resolution was out of the question.

He figured the situation was only going to deteriorate until rock bottom was hit.

* * *

**A/N: **The show with the kiss scene is actually real; it's called El Cor De La Ciutat, which actually originated in Spain; it's awesome, lol. And the movie's real too—comes from Lifetime, but I don't remember the name of it. Anyways, enough of my rambling. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, even though it got somewhat violent towards the end…


	15. Secret

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Big Time Rush.

**Warning: **Contains implied one-sided Kendall/James. Logan/Carlos. (Italics = Flashback)

**Fifteen – Secret**

Monday would often be described as the laziest day of the week, since it was after Sunday, but for Logan, this Monday was sliding and twisting into ways that could alter his emotions and make him alert at any millisecond. Sunday had been even more nerve-racking, what with all the Carlos-related episodes—all depicted as mutual situations—that had been going through his severely-tainted mind. Also, Carlos' doctor had been hinting about something when Logan had spoken with him, interrupting his lunch.

It was five thirty in the afternoon, and Doctor Morgan had been sitting there, for at least two hours now, in Carlos' room, mainly because the day was slow and he didn't have any other patients to take care of at the time. Currently, he was trying to coax the brunette to blurt out any other facts that would be of benefit for him for when the raven woke up. He thought it ridiculously irrational, but Logan had predicted that he was going to wake up _today_. After that inference, Doctor Morgan absolutely thought the brunette had reached the highest point of the psycho state, but he still felt sympathy for him.

"And you said he reacted when you spoke to him…?" questioned Doctor Morgan.

Logan just nodded, sitting like a soldier in his chair, a far-away look in his eyes; his mind was drifting in the grey, imaginary clouds. It made him cringe internally as _that _word constantly bounced around in his head—the 'amn' word, and he preferred a simple abbreviation instead of the whole word. His feelings still had not gotten used to such a foreign and distasteful term, and because of this, it made him ill whenever he heard it out loud.

For example, the first strike happened right before Doctor Morgan had left the cafeteria. The second strike came up when that odd, little girl had talked to him in the cafeteria, too. And the third strike was what left him shaky and upset, when he'd had that phone call conversation with that woman yesterday afternoon. Because of that word, he'd slipped on the much-avoided home plate, and he'd literally _hurt_ Carlos yesterday. The damage he'd done could _never_ be erased.

"Can you try to speak to him right now?" asked Doctor Morgan.

Logan didn't want to. He didn't want to communicate—or at least try to—with Carlos anymore. He was afraid that something might happen in between, and then he'd end up hurting Carlos physically again, or worse—the raven would not answer when he would try speaking to him. But Doctor Morgan's nudge was inevitably persuading that he stood up, and so he took a deep breath.

He hoped he spoke this sentence so low, that not even the doctor could hear, "How could you do this to me?" he hissed, squeezing his eyes shut.

He opened them after a second, and saw no movement from Carlos' hand. "Nothing," said Logan, turning around to look at Doctor Morgan. He sat on his chair quietly.

"Strange. Are you sure they weren't random…?"

Logan shrugged. He didn't know anymore, to be truthful. The false prediction he'd made had been a spontaneous thought he thought his Alternate Voice had sent. He wasn't at all sure. He badly needed some type of comfort, to let him know that everything was going to be okay, and matters wouldn't get any worse. That was a big fat lie, nevertheless. Ten more minutes passed. The air was completely tense.

Logan surprised himself when he struck up a sentence to start a, hopefully, normal conversation. "H-how long have…you been a doctor?"

"Thirteen years. Every time it's something new. I never get tired of seeing how the patients react after they wake up from their coma." The doctor grinned.

Logan didn't grin. Of course, sooner or later they would've come back to the current situation. He wondered how Carlos would react when he woke up, or if he even would react. His heart hoped for the better, but his brain was too logical and overpowering to fall for the Hope trap. There were never happy endings, not in real life. Ten more silent minutes passed.

"Why are you still here?" Logan suddenly asked, looking at Carlos' doctor with a confused expression. "You know I'm wrong. You think I'm crazy. So why?"

"I try to be sincere. You may or not be wrong, but I am still obligated to care."

"You don't care?" asked Logan, slightly horrified.

"No, no, I do. I didn't mean it like that, but…" Doctor Morgan looked straight at him, a little uncertain. "Nothing. You know, this is the first time another patient has helped me take care of another patient."

"I'm not taking care of him," Logan acknowledged, a little depressed, and Doctor Morgan gave him a quizzical look. "I'm hurting him, and I can't stop myself."

Doctor Morgan raised his eyebrows. "Are you sure? Some things happen for a reason."

Exactly when he said that, they both heard a sound. Logan turned his head, and his face went white when he saw that Carlos was moving on the bed. Not wild like yesterday, but calmer. He stood up, followed by Doctor Morgan. Logan had on a pained expression, but Doctor Morgan had one of sustained and serious, as if he'd experienced this scene before. Carlos' eyes opened immediately, totally reciprocal than the movies when they open slowly in a breath-taking and magical manner.

Carlos' situation was probably described as horrifying, because his pupils didn't move. They were frozen like a painting. Logan almost had the urge to slap Carlos again, but he controlled himself, though he knew his self-discipline wouldn't last that long. He watched as Doctor Morgan slowly removed the mask, but left the plugs on his body. Carlos' mouth opened into a small 'o'.

Logan couldn't take it anymore. Abruptly, he slapped the raven on the cheek, and quickly took his hand away in shock. Carlos didn't react, but Doctor Morgan did.

"Wake up, Carlos…" Logan whispered.

Doctor Morgan looked at Logan, face pale, dismayed. "I will not tolerate this kind of behaviour. One more outburst and you're out. I'm sorry, but I'm still responsible for him."

Logan glared at him. He returned his gaze back to Carlos, whose face scrunched up from frozen to a puzzling one. As Logan leaned in, Carlos' doctor stepped behind him, as if to make sure that the brunette wouldn't slap him again. It really irritated Logan, and he gritted his teeth. Doctor Morgan seemed to notice the dark aura the brunette was giving away, and so he stepped back just a few inches, clasping his hands. Then Logan leaned away, still staring at Carlos.

**ooo**

"The boys haven't called since Saturday," said Mrs. Knight, a tone of worry in her voice.

"Mom, stop worrying, they're okay," said Kendall as he ate the last of his hamburger.

"But they're supposed to return this Wednesday. Oh, my babies, what if something happened to them?"

"Oops." Kendall looked at his mother, a sheepish look crossing over his face. "I _might_ have forgotten to mention to _you_…that they're staying another week over there."

Mrs. Knight's jaw dropped open. "What? Why? _How?_"

Kendall chewed on the inside of his cheek. "I'm…gonna go check on what Katie's up to!" He ran out, leaving Mrs. Knight in the kitchen with a thousand questions in her mind.

Kendall stepped out into the pool area, and spotted James over in a corner, stretched out in a lounge chair, sunglasses over his eyes. His skin was slightly tan, and Kendall gulped at the sight. For just a second there he had thought James looked _sexy_. Not sexy in a friendship way to point out that the other was handsome, but sexy in a 'I wanna get in your pants' way. He blocked the absurd thought, and remembered he already had a _girlfriend_. _Jo_, _Jo_, _Jo_, he thought as he marched casually towards his tall friend.

"Sup, James," said Kendall, sitting on a lounge chair next to the brunette, trying his hardest not to stare at his abs, but at his face.

James languidly sat up, and took off his sunglasses. "Sup," he answered.

Kendall licked his bottom lip. "So, fun, eh?"

James smirked. "Fun, _what?_ Logan and Carlos are the ones who are in Canada. Betcha they're having the time of their lives. We're stuck here with nothing but Hollywood and the sun." He laughed at his own sarcastic joke.

Kendall grinned awkwardly. "I'm bored, too. Wanna go out for ice cream?" Gradually, he went quiet for a few seconds after he said that; he then blushed at his own offer. "I-I mean, not like a-a date, 'cause– I-I, y-you, w-well…" He pursed his lips. "You want to?"

James raised an eyebrow. "Sure…"

As they both stood up, Kendall realized what he had just done—or what he _thought_ he had just done. _Jo_, _Jo_, _Jo_, he thought furiously.

"I like _Jo_," his conscious demanded at him.

Another part of his mind whispered James' name curiously, but he pushed it aside, continuing to repeat _Jo_ in his confused mind. He couldn't possibly like James. It's 'highly illogical' as Logan would say.

Logan _loves_ Carlos. That's a different thing. Logan's been crushing on Carlos ever since they were thirteen.

_It had been two weeks since the carnival. Currently, Kendall, James, Carlos and Logan were all at Logan's house. Two days earlier they had all agreed to have a sleepover during Friday, and Logan had been stuck with the job. They were all in his room, door locked, filled with empty snack bowls. It had been clear that the boys wouldn't be bothered through the whole night. Although, it was already twelve in the morning; James and Logan were already asleep._

_"__There's nothing on TV," said Carlos, yawning while playing with the straps of his helmet that was currently on his head. "I'm going to sleep." And within five minutes, he was already snoring like the other two._

_Kendall flipped through the channels. He couldn't sleep, and he knew he wouldn't be able to for another hour or so. He turned off the television, and decided to listen to his friends' snores instead. H__opefully, that would drive him to willful sleep. Eyelids half-closing already, Kendall suddenly heard Carlos' name being spoken. His back went erect, and he looked around, squinting his eyes so he could see better in the dark. Deciding it was his sleepy mind playing tricks on him, he ignored it. Seconds later, he heard Carlos' name again, and he finally recognized the voice as Logan's. Kendall turned, and looked up to find Logan fully asleep on his bed, mouth hanging open, as he continued to mumble the raven's name._

_"__Carlos… I-I like you… Please don't hate me," moaned Logan as he stirred on his bed. He stirred too much though, because he fell off his bed with, a quite surprising, light thud._

_His eyes opened, and he gasped in a breath. Kendall crawled over to the brunette, and put a hand on his shoulder. This startled Logan, and he looked over, noticing that Kendall had on a creepy, smiling face._

_"__What?" he grunted, sitting up._

_"__You like _Carlos?_" Kendall asked simply._

_Logan turned red—glad it was dark so Kendall wouldn't notice—and climbed onto his bed, Kendall following him._

_"__I-I don't know what you're talking about," said Logan._

_Kendall laughed quietly. "Dude, I won't make fun of you. I heard it in your sleep. C'mon, I can keep a secret. _Do_ you like Carlos?" Kendall had on that creepy smile again._

_Logan furrowed his eyebrows, then gave Kendall a deadpan look, and answered with a constrained whisper, "Yes."_

_"__I can't hear you," mocked Kendall._

_Logan punched him on the arm. "Shut up… Y-you're going to wake up the others."_

_Kendall giggled. "Night, Logan." After that, he could finally fall asleep._

"Kendall!" James shouted, thwacking the blonde on the head.

Kendall snapped back, and stared at James with a frozen look for a good five seconds before he figured out he had spaced out. "Sorry, I was…" He pressed his lips together. "Never mind. Let's go."

He tried to stop his fluttering heart when James grinned at him.

**ooo**

Logan was almost at the point of bursting from all the patience. And why? Because Carlos _wouldn't_ move. What's creepy enough was that his brown eyes, open at the time, looked like pure glass. He wondered if this time Carlos was having a silent convulsion, and that _frightened_ him.

"Wake up, just _wake up_," he thought.

He felt as if he was being strangled silently; his feelings were being twisted in every horrible, possible way any wicked demon could ever think of. More agonizing minutes passed by, and all the while Doctor Morgan was quiet, acting as if he wasn't even there. It actually did well to Logan because he definitely did _not_ need something else to be anxious about. He wouldn't dare blink at the time, not until _Carlos_ blinked. He felt compelled to copy the raven's every facial movement, which was quite odd.

"Wake up, Carlos. _Wake up!_" Logan screamed in his head as he bit his lower lip, and clenched Carlos' bed sheets.

Finally, Doctor Morgan spoke, "You have to wait until he gets over the shock. I know it's a long process, but it's worth it."

Logan _tried_ to understand the doctor's words, but his mind was still whirring insanely. Eventually, Carlos blinked, and Logan blinked along with him. As if on cue, Doctor Morgan stood next to Logan, and smiled at Carlos.

Carlos blinked several times. "A… A donde estoy?" he rasped out in a weak voice.

Logan was about to lunge at him, but Doctor Morgan stopped him. He opened his mouth and answered with thick Spanish, "Estás en un hospital."

Carlos groaned. "P-por qué?"

"Estuviste en un accidente."

That's when Carlos noticed the brunette beside the doctor, a wild look on his pale face. "Y quién es el?" he questioned.

Doctor Morgan looked at Logan. "He asks 'who are you'?"

Logan felt as if he was going to throw up. He didn't expect to be this nervous when Carlos woke up. He let the feeling subside before he spoke up, "I-I'm…Logan…"

Carlos raised an eyebrow, and looked at Doctor Morgan. "Pero, _quién_ es?"

"I'm your boyfriend, Carlos," Logan abruptly said, the vomiting feeling building up in his stomach again.

Carlos laughed weakly. "En serio?" He noticed the brunette was trembling, vaguely though, but he could spot the boy's shoulders shaking. Carlos bit his lip, and whispered directly to Doctor Morgan, "Miralo! Esta bien flaco…y-y su _cara_. Se ve cómo un zombi, ha, ha!"

Doctor Morgan turned slightly red in the face, and carefully explained what Carlos had said to the brunette. Logan's trembling had ceased, and was replaced by his silent fidgeting.

"Oh, este no habla español?" asked Carlos with furrowed eyebrows. Doctor Morgan shook his head. "What's up…?" he said, looking at Logan.

Logan stopped moving, looking at Carlos with that same wild eye. A small smile formed on his lips. "Nothing. Just waitin' for you to wake up."

"Okay? How…long was I asleep, then?"

"Four days," answered Logan in a sad tone. From the funny look Carlos gave him, the raven probably thought it wasn't much for a coma, but to Logan, it had felt like a decade and he hoped to never experience it ever again. He turned to Doctor Morgan. "Can I talk to him alone?"

Doctor Morgan nodded and left.

"Carlos, do you remember _anything?_" Logan asked desperately.

Carlos opened his mouth, looking confused. "Oh! That's my name… Um, not that I know of… Am I _supposed_ to remember something?"

Logan pursed his lips. "No," he quickly replied. He leaned in, and pressed his lips to Carlos'. "Just that…you belong to me. That's all you need to remember…" mumbled Logan into the kiss.

Technically, he wasn't lying. If Carlos didn't find out, for at least some time, then no one would get hurt.

Right?

* * *

**A/N: **Yay, Carlos finally woke up. There. Ya'll happy now? xD

Wait no, don't get happy just yet… -dark smile-

… Boy, that was a cheesy comment, haha.


	16. Toxic Guilt

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Big Time Rush.

**Warning: **Contains cursing. Logan/Carlos. (Italics = Flashback)

**Sixteen – Toxic Guilt**

The kiss had a subtle-type of feeling to it. Logan's lips were trembling amongst Carlos' stiff ones. It wasn't a romantic kiss, it was just lips touching lips, whispering silently 'I've missed you'. And it was exactly that. Logan had been missing Carlos—Carlos' eyes, voice, touch, expressions and everything else. So right now, he was getting the opportunity to taste Carlos _first_ without anyone saying that it was wrong—because they were alone presently, and no one could stop this moment.

Disappointingly, Carlos was the one who broke the kiss. "I'm confused."

Logan leaned in to press his lips onto Carlos' again, but Carlos shook his head and leaned away.

"What? What is there not to understand?" demanded Logan.

"How did…_we_ end up here?" questioned Carlos.

Logan's eyebrows turned into a scowl, slightly irritated by the unnecessary interruptions. "The doctor already told you. There was an accident," he said in a bitter tone.

"But I want to know the whole thing. I've been asleep, right? And I can't remember _anything!_"

Logan sighed, finding the heart to tell Carlos half of the truth. Although he kept repeating to himself that what he was doing to Carlos was _not_ lying; the situation was different. "Nothing?" he asked for assurance. Carlos shook his head. "Well…you and I are in a band–"

"Big Time Rush!" exclaimed Carlos, grinning in awe. "I-I remember now! There's you, and me, and Ken…K-Ke… Come on stupid brain, work!" Carlos growled under his breath, and slapped his head. "Ow! Stupid head!" He was about to whack himself again, but Logan grabbed his wrist and stopped him.

"Don't do that," he said, giving Carlos a serious face.

"But I can't– Wait! It's Kenneth and Jerold!" Carlos grinned, ecstatic.

"Kendall and James," corrected Logan.

Carlos nodded in agreement. "Yep! I know something now!" He thought for a minute, picturing the two guys he'd just mentioned. "Jerold's hot," he muttered, wiggling his eyebrows.

Logan scowled. "That's enough."

"What? I'm gay aren't I? He's pretty sexy, if you ask me."

Logan's eyebrows kept scrunching, and it looked as if they were about to jump and crawl away from his face. He pounced on the raven, making Carlos lay flat on his bed with a surprised face. "You belong to _me_." Logan felt a rush of adrenaline as he said this. He wanted to repeat that line, in different ways, again and again. "You're _mine_. _Mine_."

"Okay, jeez. No need to get possessive," mumbled Carlos. "Can you get off me, please?"

Slowly, Logan slid off him, and landed on his bed. "_Mine_," he muttered.

"I _get_ it," said Carlos, slightly agitated.

No—Carlos _didn't_ get it, only Logan did. Carlos didn't know about Logan's lie, about his mad love for him, about his perverted thoughts that he wanted to commit to the raven again and _again_. Carlos didn't understand any of that. Logan felt angry, suddenly, caused by a passion—like that Saturday night when he'd kissed Carlos all too lovingly, showing off his yearn that came from unrequited love. He wanted to continue from that night.

Now that Carlos was awake, he finally had the unlikely chance to make the raven _entirely_ his. Even his heart and brain agreed this time. Was he thinking properly? He didn't care. Carlos already had the false knowledge that he belonged to Logan. It wouldn't be much of a problem if Logan wanted to fuck him right there and then. Logan's eyes flickered towards the door. He wondered if Doctor Morgan was still outside. Would he risk it just to please his rash intentions?

Maybe. Probably. A definite yes.

As Carlos kept blabbering about how hot 'Jerold' was—which irritated Logan—the fair-skinned boy stood up and locked the door quietly. He climbed back on his bed, and slapped a hand over Carlos' chattering mouth. For a boy recently waking up from a four-day coma, he sure was jittery, and with an injured head to add. He lowered his head, took off his hand, and gave Carlos a deep kiss. The raven didn't respond, overwhelmed by the spontaneous contact of mouth to mouth. Jeez, did Logan love to give abrupt kisses. It wouldn't annoy Carlos if he were to give a quick warning ahead of time.

_His lips were soft against the raven's._

Carlos eyes went wide open, and he quickly reacted into the kiss. Logan pulled away, and stared at the raven, whose cheeks were red.

"I-I remember another thing. You've kissed me before, like this," he breathed. Logan frowned, feeling his stomach turn upside down again. "And then you fell, or something…"

Hearing this, Logan knew what Carlos was talking about; the time when they were playing with the super soakers to determine who would win the hockey tickets. A sour thought came across his head, as he knew that those hockey tickets had been the origin of this paradoxical situation he was in.

Carlos' face scrunched up into one if discomfort. "I also remember…I felt weird when you kissed me…like it wasn't normal…" He looked at Logan right in the eye. "Are you _sure_, I'm a– We're…you know?"

Logan felt guilty for a second, but pushed down the feeling. "Yeah," he answered in a convincing truthful tone. "It was random. No wonder you felt weird." He gave a tiny smile. "Carlos, I _love_ you." It felt right saying it out loud, and in front of the raven instead of a mirror, but the awful feeling in his stomach lingered.

Carlos bit his lip. "I…love you, too?"

The answer was given without much thought, and Logan didn't feel like he would've when Carlos would finally say those three words to him. The guilty feeling submerged even more, and again, he pushed it down. He should be glad—no, _excited_ that Carlos finally said those three words. The doorknob suddenly rattled, and before unlocking it, Logan softly brushed his lips against Carlos'.

"I wish you really knew how much I love you…" he whispered, and went to unlock the door, walking pass Doctor Morgan.

Carlos was left there, quiet, on his bed, mentally confused over the words the brunette had just said. He kept thinking as Doctor Morgan undid the bandage on his head.

**ooo**

Logan quickly entered one of the public bathrooms of the hospital. He looked around, and hopefully there wouldn't be anyone inside the stalls. He gripped the sink and turned on the water. Slowly, he leaned down and let the cold water stroke his dirty hair and aching neck. It was a good sensation. Minutes later, he turned off the water, for his neck was starting to cramp. He dried himself with a few paper towels.

Like in the bathroom inside Carlos' room, he stared at his reflection, but there was something different. He didn't look physically ill. He shook his head and blinked several times. The reflection changed. His face was flawless, the cuts had been erased, but his same deadpan facial expression still shone. Logan glowered at the mirror, and the reflection copied him.

"What are _you_ staring at?" he questioned crisply.

The reflection mimicked his mouth movements.

He answered his own question, "Nothing."

The reflection suddenly sneered, and Logan's face went white at this. He ran into one of the stalls, and when he opened the door there was the same malicious face—_his _face and _his_ body. Logan staggered a few steps back, eyes wide as It approached him.

It opened its mouth, but the voice seemed to come from Logan's mind. "You think you're so fucking perfect and innocent. You don't even mind that you're hurting him."

"That's not true," said Logan, as his back came into contact with a wall. "I–"

"You're _psycho_, man. You don't deserve that bitch's love. I'll make a deal with you. Tell the truth and face the facts, or I—you can call me whatever you want; Conscious, I prefer, since your imagination has turned quite vivid—will do it for you, and you'll end up fucking dead from guilt. It's your choice, _gosse_."

Logan couldn't speak. Was this hallucination coming from his mind?

"That's not possible," he choked out, mainly talking to himself.

"Oh, you're such an ass. Of course, I'm possible. This is your brain playing those fucking mind tricks on you. You're not taking it very well, and you won't in the future."

Logan was completely puzzled. It's _totally not_ possible that his mind could have betrayed him, and created an imaginary replica of him. That only happened in fiction and odd television like that ghost movie he'd seen during Sunday.

"I don't understand."

"You _can't_," It hissed. "As I said before, well, never mind. You'll prefer being dead shit, right?"

"_No_," Logan answered, extremely frightened.

"You just love to lie, don't you?" All of a sudden, It opened its hand, and there was some kind of black fog, spinning in a circle to form a sooty sphere. "I'll swallow you up, and you'll feel pain like never before."

It wrapped a hand around his throat, the one with the black fog, and Logan felt his whole body go cold.

"This is what it feels like when you've gone too far. Feel the guilt? Do you like that? God, I bet you're a fucking sadist."

Logan couldn't move. All he could do was open his mouth while the unpleasant cold feeling began to crawl up his lips. He screamed. "Get _away_ from me! Get _out_ of my mind! I didn't do anything wrong!" Upon shrieking these words, It quickly disappeared, and the heat rushed back into his body. He dropped to his knees. "Is it really wrong to love someone?" he sobbed.

"It _is—_the way _you're_ doing it. You've been stitched with corrupted love. Better fix that before it gets worse. Don't go bitchin' in your head when you actually know you're being a total bitch."

Logan lifted his head, but no one was there. He shook his head and stood. "Don't say that. Nothing is wrong. I'm not complaining about this. I _love_ Carlos, and he loves me back, now," said Logan, convincing himself that what he had just said was but a mere, imperfect affirmation, and not something that could not just alter _his_ life, but Carlos', too. And not in the good way.

"Not really." It cackled ominously, appearing once again in front of him.

"Please, _p__lease_, just leave me _alone_," cried Logan.

He _knew_ everything he was doing was, without exception, wrong and immoral, but his mind was already tainted; it was impossible to regress back to the truth, unless something was done. He wouldn't count on a saviour, though. Only _he_ knew about this, and he wasn't planning on telling anyone. Was it the right decision? His mind was just too tired to think in such ways. In effect, he ended up blacking out on the cool floor.

**ooo**

Carlos was sipping at a glass of chocolate milk when the door of his room opened. He saw a nurse with red hair come in, pushing in a gurney—or at least something that resembled it—with a person on it. She lifted the person, and put him on the bed next to Carlos'. The woman looked sad, but her eyes grew in amazement as she saw Carlos.

The nurse then smiled. "I see you've woken up."

Carlos didn't know how to respond, so he just nodded while continuing to sip his thick drink through the curly straw. The nurse left, and Carlos turned his head to look at the person on the bed. He recognized him as…was it Lawrence?—his boyfriend. It felt odd to think that word. He didn't even remember falling in love with him. His eyebrows turned up as Lawrence began to mumble in sleep.

"Leave me alone…_alone_."

Carlos felt bad for him. When he'd first seen his face, there was this quirky aspect that clearly introduced him as partially insane. Carlos wondered what had happened before to make him look like this. He also wondered if he had anything to do with it.

"Go _away!_" the brunette screamed, suddenly sitting up, opening his eyes, revealing heavily-dilated pupils.

The abrupt yell caused for Carlos to jump, making part of his chocolate milk spill on his bed sheet. However, he didn't pay attention to it, and instead he looked at the fair-skinned boy with an open mouth and eyebrows raised so high, disturbed. The brunette turned his head slowly and looked at Carlos, face still looking daringly scary.

"Are you okay, Lawrence?" Carlos asked.

The corners of the brunette's mouth turned down. "Huh…? It's Logan," he said.

"Are you okay, Logan?" asked Carlos again.

Logan looked down, biting his lip, gripping his bed sheets. "Carlos…" he whispered.

"Yes?"

Logan squeezed his eyes shut, and then opened them after a few seconds. "Would you like to go home this week?"

Carlos answered with a soft, doubtful 'yes'. He couldn't help but to think that Law– Logan had been going to ask something else. The questioned remained unspoken. After, he decided not to think about it too deeply; it probably wasn't even important. Carlos finished his chocolate milk and sighed in satisfaction, placing the empty glass on his bedside table.

"Hey, Logan, since you're my _boyfriend_, can you tell me some of the things we had done so I can, uh, well, like know…how I _fell_ in love with you?" Carlos giggled at his own cheesy request, but soon stopped when Logan looked up at him with a pained expression. "Did I…say something wrong?"

Logan shook his head. "My mind is…full. Sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry about," said Carlos, which made Logan's face scrunch up into a further awful expression.

It seemed as if the fair-skinned boy tried his best to hide that hurting expression, because he soon replaced it with a mild, smiling face. Carlos returned a nervous smile.

"So, um, can you tell me?" questioned Carlos. Logan bit his lip. "Okay, if you don't want to talk about it, it's fine." Slowly, Carlos sat up on his knees, and cupped Logan's face in his hands, giving him a quick kiss. "Does that make you feel better?" asked Carlos as he sat back on his bed, blushing a little.

Logan was in shock for a second, before a true, warm smile formed on his cut-up lips. "Yeah."

As he stirred on the bed, a black box dropped onto Carlos' bed. Carlos looked at it, and was about to grab it before Logan snatched it away, and tucked it inside his hospital robe.

"What was that?" questioned Carlos, raising his eyebrows, pointing his index finger at the spot where the box had landed.

"N-nothing," responded Logan, jaw trembling a bit.

"Are you sure…?" persuaded Carlos, even more curious.

From the quick glance he had took, the black box looked kind of ominous, as if there was a big secret stuffed in there. The raven's fingers twitched, wanting to get his hands on that small box. Since Logan had spaced out a bit, Carlos took the opportunity to slip his hand inside Logan's hospital robe, and take out the box. Logan blushed furiously at the contact, but his face soon turned a bright white when Carlos took out the note from the box and unfolded it.

"No!" Logan shouted, and desperately tried to get the note back, which caused for Carlos to fall off his bed. He moaned when he came into contact with the cold floor. Logan froze, absolutely scared. "Carlos, I'm–" But he stopped when he saw that Carlos was sitting against a wall, already reading the note.

Logan watched with a rapidly beating heart as Carlos' pupils moved from left to right, reading the letter carefully. When he finished it, he brought the paper down to his lap and lifted his head up to look at Logan with a scowl, yet a confused face at the same time.

"Crash?" he asked. "What crash? And who's this? What does it mean that 'I deserve better'?"

Logan was about to open his mouth, no doubt to answer with the fake truth, but he was stopped when he saw blood drip down Carlos' right temple. Not knowing what to do, Logan just followed his instincts and seconds later, he was already too preoccupied grabbing a towel from the bathroom, and then pressing it to Carlos' head.

"I asked y–"

"Shh," Logan cut him off, pressing the towel to Carlos' slightly open head wound.

He grabbed Carlos, and pressed the raven's head to his chest, burying his face in the soft, jet-black hair, which smelt of salt and iron from the fresh blood. Carlos was quiet from the hold, mostly because he was in shock, combined with the questions about the letter that were bouncing wildly in his mind.

"You need to take a shower," said Logan in a soft voice as he helped Carlos into the bathroom, putting the stained towel in the sink.

"But the letter–"

"There's nothing important about it," said Logan through gritted teeth. Carlos went quiet after that.

Unable to resist the urge, Logan glanced back and quickly spotted It standing beside his bed. It sneered and disappeared when he blinked, and he quickly closed the door of the bathroom. He knew what It was telling him. The least he could do was do one _good_ thing for Carlos besides infest his mind with phony words.

"Let me help you with that…" muttered Logan as he helped Carlos out of his robe, slowly sliding the light-blue piece of clothing up through the raven's raised arms.

The letter was forgotten, and left on the floor outside.

* * *

**A/N:** I apologize if this chapter was, uh, kind of creepy. Anyways, I'm sure ya'll Kames fans will like the next one, lol. Somewhat.


	17. Adulterated Lips

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Big Time Rush.

**Warning: **Contains implied Kendall/James. Logan/Carlos. (Italics = Flashback)

**Seventeen – Adulterated Lips**

"Kendall, this isn't ice cream," said James as Kendall threw in, yet, _another_ box of chocolates.

What was scary enough was that the box was shaped in a _heart_, and it made James feel uncomfortable. James hadn't agreed to this. Not at all; he had agreed to _ice cream_, not a weird candy shopping spree in a random store. It made him feel like one of those love-struck boys—the ones who went wild to a stupid girl's touch—who were desperately trying to find a quick gift to give to their girlfriend for a date they'd almost forgotten.

Or should he say Kendall; he was the one who was shoving his hands in the shelves, going through all the rich flavours of the heart-shaped chocolates. James scowled. He'd just implied that Jo was stupid—because she's not. Sure, Kendall fell absolutely in love with the sweet, blonde girl—head over heels, to say the least—but James admitted in some part of his mind that he had wanted to win her over instead; not that he was complaining, but the girl was pretty hot.

"We'll get the ice cream later. You like chocolate, right? Look, more chocolate!" Kendall blabbered as he took the cart and headed to another isle; James had to run just to keep up with him.

"You're acting like a girl in PMS. Chocolate cravings, and all that other weird stuff," said James as he watched Kendall fill up the cart with more sweets.

At the sound of those words, Kendall abruptly stopped the chocolate throwing, and turned to look at James with a serious face. James noticed that the blonde had a splotch of bright pink on both his cheeks, and he almost laughed because he thought Kendall was wearing make-up. He was wrong. Kendall was actually _blushing_. It was like a mini plague, because James also blushed for a reason he didn't know why.

"These aren't for me," muttered Kendall, his blush turning a cherry red.

"Then who are they for? _Jo?_ Dude, you're gonna get her fat." James giggled at his comment.

Surprisingly, Kendall didn't frown at this. "No. It's…for…Logan and Carlos' Welcome Back party…" he mumbled, sounding undecided.

"I don't believe you. Seriously, what's with all the heart chocolates?" James inquired, narrowing his eyes, getting the feeling that Kendall was partially lying.

"I-I like heart chocolates, _okay!_ Here, _have_ one," said Kendall as he shoved a box in James' arms.

At this, James' eyes locked with Kendall's. Now he _definitely _knew the blonde knew something that he didn't. "Dude, I'm not stupid," he said as he threw the box in the cart.

"You're not, James, you're just a narcissist," muttered Kendall as he quickly took out a small chocolate from one of the boxes, and popped it in his mouth, looking down.

"No, I'm not!" James defended, frowning at Kendall.

"Fine, then." Kendall shrugged. "You're too stupid to see that I might possibly like you." James' mouth opened, and Kendall whipped his head to look at James with a red face, slamming him against the shelves, making some of the chocolates topple all over the floor. "I didn't say that! I-I meant something else, n– Don't smirk! Shut up! Stop smiling!"

James slowly pried Kendall's fingers off him, shaking his head in amusement. "I don't blame you. It's hard to resist _this_." He grinned cockily, and pointed at himself. "Although you might reconsider dating me since you and Jo have a thing," he added as a joke.

"I don't _like_ you, and I wasn't _thinking_," Kendall growled, annoyed. "We're not Logan and Carlos, you know," he blurted out.

He went red in the face again, and slapped a hand over his mouth. James raised an eyebrow. Kendall was hiding something else from him. "What about Logan and Carlos?"

Kendall looked as if he was about to pass out for probably revealing, though more like insinuating, a huge secret and that confused James. He knew Logan and Carlos were in Canada, and _that_ wasn't a secret. Almost everyone knew—in the Palm Woods—except for the media and, obviously, Gustavo. Griffin had no idea what was going on because somehow, three weeks ago, he called Gustavo and told him he was stuck in New Jersey for a business trip. Although, he's had no such luck returning. He and Kendall were hoping that those three wouldn't find out any time soon about their misdoings in the studio, and their other two friends' out-of-country vacation.

"Nothing," Kendall's voice came out muffled because he still had his hand over his mouth.

James groaned. "Don't tell me that they won't be coming home until next month." It was an obvious exaggerating statement, but Kendall still shook his head. "Jeez, don't you think they've had more than enough fun over there? It's gonna be two weeks. What could they be doing in Canada besides playing and watching hockey? Unless they went to Niagara Falls, and ended up falling in love or something."

At that, Kendall squeaked.

"Is…that true?" James asked, eyes going wide.

"N-no. There's lots more to Canada than love." Kendall squeaked again, which sounded more like a hiccup.

James' eyebrows furrowed, and he put a hand on Kendall's shoulder. "Did Logan say anything else when he called? Besides staying longer?"

"N-no, no. He just called for, you know. If they could stay longer. Dummy!" Kendall gave a nervous laugh. "That's why we filled the studio equipment with super glue!"

Irritated by the stupid answers, James pinned Kendall against a wall, giving him a drilling stare. "Come on. I wanna know!" Then he grabbed the blonde's arm, and dragged him into the men's restroom. "_Tell me_, Kendall."

Kendall squeaked again. "No. It's nothing important, anyway."

"_Dude_."

"_No_."

"Kendall!"

"It's none of your business!" shouted Kendall, face turning red like a fire truck.

James' mouth opened into an 'o'. Kendall wasn't going to tell him, so he was going to do something about it. He wanted to know the juicy secret his friends were keeping from him.

"So, _Kenny_, you said you liked me right?" James grinned arrogantly.

"I _don't_," growled Kendall as his eye began to twitch. "I wasn't thin–"

James grabbed the blonde's chin, and pressed their lips together, making Kendall squeak. James had kissed girls before, and _their_ lips were absolutely soft and tasted like strawberries or any other flavoured lip gloss. But Kendall's…dear, Kendall's were something else. His lips were tense, they didn't taste like anything, and James could feel a small cut on the blonde's upper lip. He didn't know how Jo could endure kissing this guy. He quickly broke the kiss, not wanting to continue, and wiped his lips with the back of his hand.

"Now tell me what's going on, or I'll have to do that again," James muttered, letting out a huff.

Kendall's hiccups had ceased, but now he was trembling all over. Refraining from touching his recently-kissed lips, he sighed in utter defeat. "Fine… Logan and Carlos…" He twisted his index and thumb fingers to form a heart, looking away, not wanting to look at James straight in the eye.

"What do you mean?" inquired James, stepping closer as if he was going to attack the blonde with another kiss.

Kendall squirmed, and backed away. Taking a deep, easing breath, he decided to once and for all explain what was _really_ going on to James, since it looked like the brunette wasn't going to bash the couple any time soon—and he definitely didn't want to be kissed again. Besides, Logan wasn't with him at the moment. It wasn't betrayal. He was going to tell _James_, their best friend; he wasn't a stranger. It's not like he was going to yell the secret out into the world with a giant megaphone.

"When were thirteen, Logan started liking Carlos…"

James raised an eyebrow. "Did Carlos know?"

Kendall shook his head, and suddenly smiled. "Nah, not back then. But that's the whole reason why they went to Canada. I bet they already did _it_. When Logan called he sounded so weird and desperate… It was probably during– You know. I don't wanna sound like a perv. So…don't get surprised if all of a sudden they start spending more time together… But _please_, don't tell _anyone_; Logan's gonna freak and–"

James kissed him again.

"Jeez, is this the only way I can get you to shut up or talk?" James sighed. "Don't worry. I won't. No wonder I lost during the super soaker competition."

Kendall rubbed his arm, a blush painting his cheeks. "Yeah… Sorry about that." He grinned sheepishly.

"Don't worry about it," said James.

It was silent.

Kendall spoke up, "Don't you feel weird? Now that you know? Do you think…it's gross?"

James shrugged. "Um, not really… I mean, they're our friends right? It's kind of weird right now, but I'm sure I'll get used to it. What I don't get is…how come I wasn't told before?"

The blonde snorted. "If Logan didn't want Carlos to know then why would he tell _you?_"

"Then how do _you_ know?" asked James while he rolled his eyes, chafed by Kendall's words.

"Remember that sleepover we had in Logan's house when you and Logan passed out 'cause you ate a lot of junk food?" James nodded. "I was kind of an insomniac that day, so I heard him talking in his sleep. The next day he just fessed up about what had happened in that carnival—the one where Carlos almost got kicked out of."

"Ah… So what happens when Logan finds out that I know?" questioned James, rubbing his arm.

Kendall bit his lip and shrugged. "They'll probably be together by the time they come home, so I guess it's okay that you tell Logan that you found out earlier than planned. And just hope that he doesn't go ballistic. Or start crying. Mostly crying."

They both laughed. "Sure, and then once he finds out that you told me he'll kick your butt," said James.

"And kick yours, too, when he finds out you forced me to tell you. With a kiss," retorted Kendall.

"Bet he won't," laughed James.

"Bet he will!"

"Uh-huh. Like Logan really cares who you kiss." The brunette smirked.

Kendall pursed his lips. "Yeah…that sounds weird, right?"

"Mhm."

"But…man, seriously, don't ever kiss me again," said Kendall, shuddering.

"Don't pretend you didn't like it," mocked James. "And that I kiss better than Jo."

"I _didn't_ like it…but–"

"So you do admit it! Oh, Jo's gonna be so _mad_." James giggled.

Kendall growled. "Turd."

He rubbed his neck, a bit embarrassed. After the feeling dimmed down, he gave James a playful punch on the shoulder, and they exited the restroom. In the end, Kendall bought the whole cart of chocolates.

Unknown to them, a nosy gossiper—suitably called the incognito paparazzi—had been listening to their secret, yet revealing conversation. The female's dark grin could make the smallest of baby animals squirm in fear as she stepped out of the stall with a black recording device in her slimy hands.

**ooo**

"Aren't you gonna take a shower?" asked Carlos as he peaked his head through the curtains, smiling, his face wet from the hot shower water.

Logan's head snapped up at the raven's words. "N-n–"

"Come on, you gotta get cleaned up, too, right? You smell like a horse's butt." Logan blushed at the insult, which caused Carlos to grin. "Just kiddin'. You smell kinda like chocolate. It's good, but you still have to take a shower."

Without giving Logan a warning, Carlos pulled him into the shower and quickly stripped him off his clothes without hesitation. Logan began blushing madly when he saw his robe and boxers being thrown out of the shower, landing on the damp bathroom floor. Seconds after that happened, Carlos noticed the bandage on the fair-skinned boy's stomach. The bandage looked worn out, as if it been there for days.

"What happened to you?" asked Carlos, poking the wet bandages.

Logan couldn't talk. Reason being because he was in a shower…with a naked Carlos. His head was spinning as he tried not to look down. It was extremely awkward because this was a completely vulnerable opportunity for him to take Carlos. It wasn't like an hour ago when the chance he had taken was an obvious risk; this chance could be literally grabbed at the moment without any interruptions.

"Oh, now I remember! This happened the time when I jumped y–"

Logan kissed him. Carlos was taken by surprise as he was backed onto a wall, wet and hot, while Logan gripped his shoulders as he pressed their chests together. The steam in the shower made it all the more passionate. Logan loved it, and it made the errors in him melt away as he knew only Carlos was with him. He had the urge to make him his right there and then. But a sudden comprehension, the feeling he was doing something unknowingly scarring—like that night when he kissed the unconscious Carlos—came back, screaming at him that he should stop. Bothered, Logan ignored the warning and began kissing along Carlos' wet jaw.

Carlos didn't move at all, though. He was conflicted; he didn't know whether what his _boy_friend was doing was right or not. Part of his conscious was whispering subtly that something was terribly wrong, yet a wild part of him couldn't quite match its answer to his conscious, as if it was refusing to listen and go with his hormonal instincts instead. Undecided of what to do, he chose to let Logan do all the work, and let him guide him through the kisses and the awkward arousal feeling like a puppet.

But the kisses had suddenly stopped.

Now instead of feeling excited, Logan hated everything. He hated Kendall for giving him those hockey tickets; he hated Arthur for showing up and talking to Carlos; he hated the airplane they had boarded; he hated Canada because they never arrived there; he hated Arthur again because he didn't prevent the terrorist attack; he hated life for rewarding him with such a cruel accident; he hated Doctor Morgan for operating him; all this contributed to the way he felt right now—his stupid ribs were giving off such a tormenting pain.

But of course, it's not possible that one of the most fragile bones in the human body were going to be healed within _four_ days. Worst of all, the pain was keeping him from making Carlos his. The scene wasn't romantic enough, but he didn't care, he had been waiting ever since years ago. He was too young back then to lose his purity, but now the last shred of it was lost, and the other part had been lost days ago when he started going nuts. So, currently, he was breathing hard, face on the crook of Carlos' neck, holding the smaller boy in an embrace so unexplainable.

"You okay?" Carlos croaked out.

Logan didn't know why his voice sounded weak. Carlos didn't know either. The raven's mind was still at odds, but his supportive instincts were still intact within his subconscious. It was quite ironic that, while Logan had been walking almost perfectly each and every day in the hospital halls, his hurt ribs would become a burden in a time so _wrong_, and Carlos' head wound, which had bled minutes ago, seemed totally perfect on the physical side right now. Logan cursed under his breath, preventing from letting his vulgar words reach Carlos' already corrupted ears.

"Logan… You look like you're about to faint."

Carlos' voice was distant, as if something was covering Logan's ears. And he felt the cold touch of his own mind trying to manipulate him. His face still on the crook of Carlos' neck, Logan growled. "Leave. Me. Alone. Get away from me."

The splattering water from the shower head suddenly sounded clear in his ears, and he felt the pain in his ribs dissipate just as quickly as it had come.

"W-what?" Carlos stuttered.

Logan looked up and saw that Carlos had on a hurt look. He cupped the raven's face in his hands, and gave him a kiss, transmitting the emotional disease from his lips to Carlos' lips. It wouldn't bother him as long as Carlos was healthy, awake and he still loved him. As long as he growled, and refused the idea of It, nothing would go wrong. He wouldn't be digging his own grave; Carlos would still love him, and soon their love would be _real_.

"You're a wreck," It laughed.

Logan continued to kiss Carlos, and finally the heavy weight in his mind was gone. No one, not even his mind, would hurt him as long as his feelings kept being told to a totally naïve Carlos.

"You're doing the wrong thing," said a voice in the echoes of the shower that Carlos couldn't hear—a little girl's voice that sounded vaguely familiar in Logan's ears. "You're in love with him for a reason. Please save yourself. You don't want him to hate you, right?"

Logan didn't pay attention to the voice, and instead twisted the words in his mind until they decomposed into small, meaningless thoughts. He decided to keep this situation like a theatrical play. Until it gets good, until he makes Carlos _his_, until the climax, will everything tumble down into the horrible turning point. A part of his old self—the one when he was _friends_ with Carlos, the one when he was still innocent as ever and helping Kendall, James and Carlos fix stupid things they've done—remembered an old saying, one that their old school coach back in Minnesota had said when they played in important hockey games: Play until you come out a true winner.

Or in this case, play until you're dead.

It was a win or lose situation. Either his plan would go through, or it would crumble upon his blemished, personal life.

"I love you," Logan whispered in Carlos' ear.

Carlos didn't return the words, and instead grabbed a bottle of shampoo, squirted the creamy substance in his hand and began to scrub his head, wincing at the slightest touch of his revealed wound, which started to bleed again. Logan watched as the blood dripped down Carlos' skin, the drain sucking it up after. His plan wasn't going to collapse just yet. It was only a minour white lie, yet so much had been affected in one day.

"You don't listen do you? Do you really want to fucking die?" It said, its form invisible.

"I don't," was the answer that Logan gave for both questions.

He put on a soon-to-crack smile when Carlos turned around and offered him the bottle of lavender-scented shampoo.

* * *

**A/N:** Mm, foreshadows…my guilty pleasure, lol.


	18. Voice Of Exposure

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Big Time Rush.

**Warning: **Contains vague verbal abuse. Logan/Carlos. (Italics = Flashback)

**Eighteen – Voice Of Exposure**

Monday had been a surprisingly calm day—that is, until Tuesday arrived. All the other days went on similarly, making Carlos believe that the hospital he and Logan were staying at was actually an asylum in disguise. It maybe was, seeming as Logan was partially insane and now he himself had started to dream nightmares—gruesome nightmares.

_It was Tuesday morning when Carlos started to writhe on his bed, eyebrows scrunching up. His breath went shallow, perspiration running heavily on his forehead. He went still, and his eyelids slowly opened, revealing his reddened eyes. The room was awfully cold, causing for Carlos to shiver. He looked around, noticing that Logan was not on his bed. It was not until he saw a bright light coming from the bathroom, having the loose idea that Logan was probably in there. He sluggishly swung his legs over the bed and dragged his feet across the floor, opening the door quietly and poking his head in the bathroom._

_"__Um…"_

"_There's another toothbrush over there. Brush your teeth," said Logan once he spit the gargled water in the sink, throwing away a used, red toothbrush in the small trashcan next to the toilet. Carlos stared, confused. "The nurses brought them. Most hospitals actually care about health and hygiene, unlike some," answered Logan._

_Carlos just nodded and grabbed the blue toothbrush laying on the sink, spreading toothpaste over the white brushes. He began brushing his teeth while Logan watched him, enjoying the minty flavour in his mouth. Once he was done, he threw the toothbrush away, licking his teeth, relishing in the clean feeling they had. Carlos was about open the door when Logan blocked the exit._

_"__You smell nice."_

_"__It's just the toothpaste," said Carlos, backing away just a bit._

_Logan took a step forward, cupping the raven's face in his hands, leaning in to close the space between their lips._

_Carlos pushed him away. "Not right now. I'm not in the mood."_

_"__Why not?" asked Logan innocently._

_Carlos' eyes flickered to the cold tile below them then up to the brunette. "I had a bad dream." Logan immediately turned around, exiting the bathroom. "Wait, don't you wanna hear what it was about?" said Carlos, a hint of hurt in his voice._

_Logan turned around, giving Carlos a deadly stare. "What?"_

_"__We were in an airplane–"_

_Logan exited the room, not wanting to hear any more._

The boys were released on Saturday, and Logan stood impatiently by the door of Carlos' room, waiting for Doctor Reynolds and Doctor Morgan to come in with their release papers. Carlos was too busy watching Blue's Clues on the television, an old habit he had regained. Logan nearly jumped when he heard the doorknob click and in came the two said doctors.

"Just sign these and you're ready to go," said Doctor Morgan, speaking directly to Carlos as the raven stood up and grabbed the paper from the doctor's hands. Doctor Reynolds said nothing, and handed the paper to Logan, avoiding direct eye contact. When the boys finished signing, Doctor Morgan smiled and grabbed the papers, giving Logan's to Doctor Reynolds. "You are free to leave now. Ah, and if you need clothes, just wait and Nurse Ellen will come in in just a second." Without a proper word of conclusion, the doctors left the room, seconds later their presence forgotten in the atmosphere when the recently-mentioned red-headed nurse came in.

She had a pile of clothes on her arms with two pairs of shoes on top. "I don't know your size, but I hope it fits you."

She handed Logan one pile with shoes and the other pile to Carlos. The boys looked at each other, faces unamused. "Thank you," they said simultaneously.

The nurse nodded and left. After seconds of considering and reconsidering silently in their minds whether to put on the clothes—God knows _who_ had worn in the past—Carlos decided to get dressed first. About twenty minutes later, they were checked for any new bruises and scratches, and Carlos' open wound was patched. While Logan had been in the bathroom, he had removed the bandages from his stomach, throwing them away in the trashcan, hiding them under a bunch of paper towels. Ten minutes later they were midway out of the hospital building, and Logan was just completely relieved that they were finally leaving. He figured since he was out of that demon prison hole, all the damn mind tricks were going to instantly disappear. Heading out, Logan just heard a small whisper as he held Carlos' hand while they walked down the hospital's sidewalk.

Carlos spoke up, "Now that we're out–"

"Taxi, we are going to find a taxi. Some kind of transportation," answered Logan quickly.

Looking back, Logan saw that they were a safe distance away from the hospital now, but there was one thing that made him shudder when he narrowed his eyes. Helena was standing in front of the double doors exit, the sun's light hitting the glass directly, which reflected off her suddenly-transparent face. As soon as he shivered, the girl smiled—a smile so devilish and evil that he thought he had seen a snake when she opened her mouth in place of her tongue—and slowly waved.

She turned around and skipped away, vanishing in thin air when she reached the corner around. Logan shivered again, feeling an odd wave of cold air—which _was_ really odd because it was pretty sunny outside. Ignoring the weird episode, Logan turned his head to look at Carlos. He was smiling lightly without a care in the world, the yellow sunlight gleaming off his caramel skin. Carlos probably noticed that the brunette had been looking at him because he turned his head to look at Logan. Carlos gave him a sheepish grin, rubbing his head where his head patch was.

"I'm kinda hungry," he said.

"I don't have any money."

Carlos raised an eyebrow. "Sure you do! The letter? Isn't there money in that bank account?"

"What are you–" The news hit him like a cement block; Carlos was talking about the box. "We don't need that," grumbled Logan, annoyed.

It was somewhat early, around ten thirty in the morning—the time when people would normally be working and kids would be hanging out in their friend's houses since it was summer vacation—so the roads were scarcely populated and only a few horns could be heard in the distance. Carlos looked at Logan with a pouty face, which then turned into one of determinacy.

"You want me to starve don't you? I'm going to die–"

"No!" Logan abruptly exclaimed, pulling Carlos into a breath-taking hug, putting his chin on the shorter boy's jet-black hair. "Don't ever say that again."

Carlos chuckled. "I was kiddi–"

"Do you even know _what_ you've done to me in the last four days when it was possible that you were going to actually _die?_" Logan's eyes closed as he still held Carlos. "I hurt you, Carlos. I couldn't stop myself. It's not funny—not funny at all."

"Um, Logan, m-maybe we should–"

"Don't say _we_. I _meant_ to lie to you, but it's driving me cra–"

"Lie to me?" Carlos pulled away from the brunette's firm hold, and looked at him with scared eyes and furrowed eyebrows.

Reverting back to reality, Logan snapped out his blabbering self and slapped a hand over his mouth. Slowly, he brought it down and looked at Carlos with a slightly open mouth. He bit his lip and shook his hand as if waving away the words he had just cried out. "I-ignore what I said."

Carlos narrowed his eyes. "_Lie_ to me?" he repeated, pressing his lips together.

Awful thoughts were running through Logan's head right now, so he decided to do the one thing that would distract Carlos seconds enough for him to forget about the recent conversation. Grabbing the raven's shoulders, Logan swiftly pressed his lips onto Carlos' and wrecked his mouth for a good twenty seconds. When he pulled away, he saw that Carlos' face was the colour of a ripe strawberry, breaths coming out through his parted lips, sounding high in Logan's ears. Carlos' eyes went droopy and he scratched behind his right ear, his eyebrow rising in a questionable manner.

"W-what did you just say…?" he asked, his voice having a bitter drunk-type of accent.

Chewing on the inside of his cheek, Logan answered, "Nothing. You were talking about food."

Carlos blinked, looking unsure of the situation in front of his eyes. "Are you sure…?"

Logan put a finger to his chin, putting on a thinking face. "You mentioned something about hamburgers with fries and a big plate of cho–"

"_Ah_, I get it," said Carlos, furrowing his eyebrows, disturbed as his inner intestines began to growl loudly. He moaned at the emptiness and put a hand on his stomach, cheeks puffing, looking as if he was about to puke. "We _need_ to find _food_," he groaned.

Trying to forget about his previous spazz attack, Logan abstained from twitching at the word 'we', which was much worse now that Carlos had added emphasis to the 'need'. He shook it off and looked around. They hadn't really been paying attention when they were walking, and so, at the moment, his eyes were raking the plain, bright sky, lowly-populated streets and the few buildings that stood among the dark-green pastures beside the sidewalks. He jumped a little when Carlos gasped.

"Look! There's a-a…" Carlos pointed and with his other hand scratched the back of his head.

"Gas station," finished Logan, looking at the small building Carlos was pointing at.

They quickly crossed the road, entered the gas station, spotting a man behind the register.

"Hey, mister!" called Carlos.

Logan whipped his head around. For a second there, his thoughts reverted back to that weird, little girl he had met in the hospital. "What?"

"Huh?" Carlos look at him, eyebrows raised. He then returned to look at the man. "Do you know a close place where we could eat?"

The man grinned. "We have food here, ya know." He pointed at a random spot.

Carlos turned his head and his eyes gazed at the items on the shelf the man had pointed at. He recognized them as cups of chocolate pudding. His tongue wiggled inside his mouth, yearning for the sweet taste, but before he could run and snatch a cup, Logan put a hand on his shoulder and gripped it firmly.

"No thanks. We need directions to the nearest bank, please," he said firmly.

The man looked disappointed, but ended up writing out directions for a bank.

**ooo**

"Five-hundred dollars in cash," said the woman, handing Logan the money.

"How much is there left?" he asked, shoving the green wad of paper in his pocket.

The woman typed on her keyboard, scrolling down the screen on the computer with her mouse. "Three-hundred," she said with a twitching smile.

"Whoa!" Carlos exclaimed. "Logan, whoever sent that letter must be _rich_," he gasped.

Logan gave him a dismissive look, and took Carlos' hand, exiting the bank building. There was a bus stop over in the corner, and they walked towards it, sitting on the bench. The sunlight cast off their skin, making their bodies warm.

"Feels nice to be out of the hospital," said Carlos as he held out his hand, the sun's rays striking it, making his skin hot.

Logan agreed silently. At least he left the _worse_ behind. Kind of. That place had been a prison; it had made him feel trapped and hopeless. The treacherous feeling still shuffled within his personality, though, waiting to be let out in just the right moment so it could break him again. It was like an unstable element—like Francium.

"Hot dogs!" Carlos suddenly yelled.

He stood up from the bench and ran, bumping accidentally against a white cart.

"Well, hello there," said a man, grinning, revealing that he was missing one front tooth.

As Logan came from behind, Carlos grinned back and turned to look at Logan. "Can we get hot dogs?" He inhaled the air. "They smell so good." Without waiting for consent, the raven shoved his hand in Logan's jeans pocket, taking out the wad of money. After searching for the price on the cart drawings, he found it and handed the hot dog vendor five dollars, putting the money back in Logan's pocket. "Two hot dogs, please! I want mine with ketchup, mustard… You know what? I want everything you have!"

"I'll have a plain," said Logan, sounding dull.

The man nodded, and quickly made the hot dogs, placing them each on a napkin, handing the food to the boys. Carlos licked his lips.

"Thanks!" He took a big bite out of his hot dog and melted at the warm and yummy taste of it and its condiments.

The boys turned around and walked away, sitting back on the bench. A minute later, when Carlos finished his hot dog, he noticed that Logan hadn't finished _his_. Carlos watched as the brunette stared at the hot dog, and then his face went red.

"Are you gonna eat that?" asked Carlos, staring at the hot dog lustfully.

Not answering, Logan gave Carlos his hot dog, and the raven grinned, taking a big bite out of it. Logan licked his lips as he saw Carlos shove the entire hot dog in his mouth, deep-throating the damn thing. Because of this it caused for Logan to space out, and so he didn't notice when Carlos had begun speaking to him when he was done eating Logan's hot dog.

"What?"

"Where are we going now?" repeated Carlos.

That was an ingenious question. Logan hadn't really thought beyond leaving the hospital and getting something to eat after Carlos had practically begged for food. He decided to just let the bus arrive and let it take them wherever, as long as they were far from the hospital.

"Can we go see Kenneth and Jerold?" Carlos suddenly asked.

"W– Oh." Logan sighed. "Carlos, they're all the way in California. We're in _Idaho_. That's _miles _away."

Carlos slumped on the bench. "How am _I_ supposed to know? You haven't told me anything that happened before, ever since I—woke up." He frowned.

"We were in a plane crash," Logan abruptly blurted out.

Carlos looked at him. "Really? Wow. Where were we going?"

"Canada."

"Why?"

Logan decided to stop there, but Carlos kept questioning 'why', until after two minutes later his voice finally died down, knowing that he wasn't going to get an answer from Logan no matter how long he repeated the word. There was no one around in the streets, so the time that passed was awkwardly silent. And Logan finally thought of something. They had lost their entire luggage in the airplane accident. They couldn't just arrive and leave the family wondering where their luggage was. They would get curious, which would lead to a bunch of chain incidents, ending with Logan with a hurt heart as Carlos would find out the _real_ truth.

He couldn't risk it. They would have to fake it at least. And he'd have to convince Carlos not to tell anyone about what had happened in the plane—_no one_ could know about Idaho. After minutes of waiting, the bus finally came, and rested on its stop, opening the doors seconds later. The boys entered it, and Logan paid the bus driver the money. The bus was somewhat empty when they entered it, and so they had the chance to sit _almost_ anywhere. When they found a seat, the engine started. Someone tapped Carlos' back, making him flinch.

"What's up, dude. Dude, hey– Man, are you _deaf?_ Yo, freak–"

Carlos turned around, offended by the comment. "What do you want?"

Logan couldn't help but giggle inside, _yet_ be annoyed at the same time. It bothered him that someone would call Carlos a freak, but before the accident, Carlos would just grin and stick his tongue out as if silently saying 'I don't care, 'cause I know I am. Freaks get all the good stuff, man.'

As soon as Carlos turned around, the teen behind caught a glimpse of the patch on Carlos' head. "Holy cow, did you _cut_ yourself there?"

"No. It was an accident," Carlos defended.

"Ha, ha, you're emo! _Pathetic_."

"Am not!" said Carlos stubbornly.

From the corner of his eye, Logan saw that Carlos looked as if he was about to cry. It was strange that amnesia could affect his personality because _before_ he used to be brave and bold, and now he just seemed so…exposed without a fierce mental barrier of protection. However, the unnamed teen was beginning to be a nuisance. He turned around and faced the teen that had verbally molested Carlos, who immediately had shock written all over his eyes.

Logan scowled deeply. "Would you–"

"Hey, you're that white dude from that band! What's it called? Big Time…Run? Nah… Rush! Oh, no wonder _you_ looked familiar. _Oh_, now I get it. Let me guess—too much fame, depression, suicidal, right? Why are you even here? Finally got kicked out of the band?" The boy laughed mockingly.

"There's nothing to laugh about," said Logan, giving the boy a deadly look.

The boy smirked. "Right."

He opened his mouth, but before he could mention more insults, the radio in the bus cut him off. The song quit playing, reaching its ending note, and the loud voice of a host came up.

"Hello, nationwide listeners! I'm your Californian girl host for this morning—Sandra. Excuse me– I mean, uh, _us_, for the interruption, but _Kendall Knight_ from Big Time Rush—yes, Kendall Knight—insists it is very important. He's going to talk to us about a secret today. We spoke before, but for you people out there it's all new alphabet soup. So sit back and enjoy."

Colour flushed away from Logan's face when he heard Kendall's voice. The pace of his heart began to quicken, and the air was suddenly heavy, making it hard to breath.

"So, what do you want to talk about, Kendall?"

From the radio came Kendall's voice, clear and concentrated, "When we were thirteen, Logan started liking Carlos…"

"_Really?_ Did Carlos ever know?" asked the host.

"Nah," answered Kendall.

"So, let me get this straight. Is that why they went on vacation? For the listeners out there, Logan and Carlos took a vacation out in Canada so Logan could tell Carlos, and–" The host giggled, but not one of merriment; her voice followed a tone of mockery.

"That's the whole reason," said Kendall.

"So, has anyone called, yet? If so, what did they say?"

Kendall's voice came up again, "When Logan called he sounded so weird and desperate… It was probably during—you know. I don't wanna sound like a perv. I bet they already did _it_. They'll probably be together by the time they come home."

"My, but isn't it wrong? Two _boys_ from Big Time Rush falling in love with each other, and on top of that you're saying that they might have lost their virginity already. At such a young age? Wow, teenagers today—so daring! Ha, ha."

"Yeah… Sorry about that," said Kendall.

"Oh, you don't agree with their relationship?" asked the host.

"N-no, no."

"Hm. Intriguing." The host chuckled. "Anyways, thank you Kendall for the quick message! Might be careful when your friends arrive, though. You just revealed a _huge_ secret. But no worries here, I _really_ enjoyed this conversation we had. _Really_."

"Okay…"

"So, people, don't forget to vote on our website poll: should Logan and Carlos be together and risk jeopardizing Big Time Rush or should they break up? Mm, I certainly would choose the second one. Those boys are in for a tremendous roller coaster ride."

Once the voices faded and another song started to play, Logan felt as if his heart had been smashed with a mallet, and then all the shattered pieces that were left had been lightly sprinkled down into oblivion.

* * *

**A/N:** Mhm, so there ya go, chapter eighteen… Quite a twist, eh? -eyes shift-

:]


	19. Laugh, Shout, Cry

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Big Time Rush.

**Warning: **Contains cursing. Logan/Carlos.

**Nineteen – Laugh, Shout, Cry**

Mrs. Knight's eyes went wide as Kendall's words tumbled messily into her ears, whacking her brain like a balloon that contained a bomb. The words exploded inside her mind, causing her to curve sideways on the road a little. She was almost at a stoplight, and luckily, there was a small entrance on the right side leading to a parking lot. She swerved quickly to the right, and parked without another second of thought. A song started to play in the radio; a smooth, classical song which calmed her nerves for a just a melodramatic second. That is, until the feeling of shock returned into her mind. She also felt angry, perplexed, and surprised at the same time.

She was angry because Kendall had lied to her, and possibly James, too. The boys had mentioned that they were going to go to… Actually, they _hadn't_ mentioned, at all, _where_. That's what perplexed her. Or they probably had but her mind, had been focused on something else at the time. Mrs. Knight didn't even remember when they left the apartment. Had it been right before she was about to leave? She had been too caught up in her own social things, and she must have not listened…and that upset her.

What left her in awe—and not the good kind—was what had just been mentioned. Logan and Carlos were _together?_ That's not possible because, well, Logan had Camille and Carlos had Stephanie, and they seem to be having a good relationship. She would have _known_ if there was something going on between the two boys—she knows _everything_ that goes on between the boys. Or could it be that she hasn't been paying enough attention to them? No, that was definitely _not_ it because she's always been a good example to the kids. Was she? She was pretty sure she was doing a good job.

Not enough, though. If Kendall and James lying, plus Logan and Carlos falling in love with each other was the effect of her parenting, then she was going to do something about it.

"You boys are in big time trouble," muttered Mrs. Knight as she pulled out of the driveway.

**ooo**

"Ha, ha! No wonder you were kicked out! Who the hell wants a boy band with two fags?" The boy who had insulted Carlos laughed.

On the contrary, Logan had nothing to laugh about; he felt sick to his stomach while his mind was trying to process the words that Kendall had just said—the effort was killing his brain cells because he was hoping what he just heard was just in his imagination. His heart was pounding furiously when Carlos slowly turned his head and looked at him with a puzzled face.

"What was that? Was that Kenneth talking?" inquired Carlos.

A small squeak came out of Logan's mouth. That wasn't really Kendall talking on the radio—it's _impossible_. Kendall could never have the nerve to betray him, much less reveal his deepest secret, and then admit that what little true, true love Logan had left for Carlos was bull shit—unless he was mad about something. _Extremely_ mad. But what could it possibly be? Would it make any damn sense that Kendall would tell just because he and Carlos have been gone for a while? No. That was absurd.

"Of course it was him talking—whoever it was—you retard. You see? This is why you should never trust anyone. There you go thinking everything's okay, oblivious to everything, and then one of your friends goes and fucks you in the ass. Jesus, after this you're pretty fucked up, and I'm not kidding," said the boy behind Logan and Carlos.

Carlos scowled. "I wasn't talking to you. Logan, c'mon, tell me!" shouted Carlos.

Logan didn't want to tell him. He stood up and by force made the bus driver stop. Quickly, he exited and desperately began to sprint around, trying to find an empty place. After searching for, what seemed, an eternity, he finally found a vacant alley. He slowed down to a wobbly walk, and rested his palm on a brick wall. His few grew hot, and the colour faded away, turning a powdery white as he suddenly threw up. He retched again, and once he was sure he wasn't going to throw up anymore, he sighed and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He straightened himself up, and raised his eyes, which were a bit droopy, and saw Carlos, who had followed him out the bus.

Instead of helping the fair-skinned boy regain his strength, Carlos folded his arms over his chest. "What did they say?"

"What are you talking about? Didn't you…" Logan trailed off as tears began running down his cheeks, feeling hopeless, empty, the thought of Kendall, his _best_ friend, ruining his life in just a split second running through his mind in an endless, torturous loop.

"No. That dude kept screaming into my ear about how stupid I was and I couldn't hear anything," said Carlos, shrugging.

Logan's shoulder twitched. "You mean…y-you didn't listen to the conversation?"

"I already said no, didn't I?"

"Oh…" Logan stopped crying, feeling the fresh tears dry on his cheeks.

He felt relief swell up in his heart, even though Kendall's words still left a horrible scar. Because of the recent radio announcement, there was no telling _what_ would happen when they arrived home. Hopefully, things would calm down—if they would have gotten reckless in the first place. Overall, he was greatly upset with Kendall, and Logan felt as if a black hole had been drilled right into his chest.

"Um, you don't need to know," he said simply.

Carlos' eyebrows furrowed. "Wh– Why?"

"It was nothing important." Logan turned around and threw up again, closing his eyes to keep from seeing the disgusting substance. He slowly turned around, extremely fatigued, looking at the raven.

Carlos stamped his feet on the cement. "But Kenneth's my friend, too, right? S–"

The sounds of barking interrupted his speech. A large, black Australian Kelpie suddenly pounced on Logan, causing for him to fall on top of Carlos. The weight suddenly became too much when another dog, a brown German shepherd, joined the Kelpie. And so, the order went like this: the two dogs were seated comfortably on Logan's back, who was sprawled _un_comfortably on an _un_comfortable Carlos. Their noses were touching, which was the only thing that was keeping their lips from meeting.

"Oh, gosh! Spright!" shouted a female voice.

"Egghead, get off them!" a male voice yelled angrily.

Seconds later, the large weight belonging to the two dogs was gone and Logan rolled over next to Carlos, too worn out—and emotionally conflicted—to stand up. Perspiration formed on both boys' foreheads as they averted their eyes to the scene before them. There was a young woman with short, brown hair and young man with a shaved cut; they were both scolding the dogs, who were currently wagging their tails happily.

Carlos sat up, rubbing his head. "Logan, are you okay?"

"Ngh… Somewhat…" He couldn't stop thinking about what he'd heard in the bus, and it almost made him throw up again.

"Aw, he's so cute!" exclaimed Carlos.

He stood up and was about to pet the black Kelpie, but the Shepherd suddenly growled, showing off its razor-sharp teeth. Carlos' eyes went wide and he stepped back, slightly frightened.

"Sheesh, Egghead. Stop growling; he's not gonna do anything to him," said the man. He looked at Carlos. "You're not going to are you?"

Carlos shook his head.

The woman smiled down at the Kelpie, addressing her words towards Carlos, "Sorry. Egghead is Spright's bodyguard. He's always looking out for him."

"Yeah, what she said. Sorry, kid," said the man, giving Carlos a sheepish smile.

Soon, Logan was beside Carlos, a hand on his shoulder. The girl looked up, still smiling, but soon it faded when she saw the faces of Carlos and Logan, quickly analyzing their features. "Jesus Christ, you're from Big Time Rush! Oh-oh dear, I just heard in the radio about you–"

"We have to go now!" Logan abruptly proclaimed as he grabbed Carlos' hand.

Carlos pulled away, freeing himself from Logan's hold. "What-what did they say?" he asked eagerly, thrilled that he was about to get the news he had missed.

The woman then scowled, looking at Logan and Carlos with a look of bewilderment. "W-wait, what are you doing here in Ida–"

"We have to _go_ _now_, Carlos!" shouted Logan, exasperated, grabbing the raven's hand again.

Before he could have a strong grip on the boy, Carlos yanked his hand away for the second time. "No! I wanna know what Kenneth said on the radio."

Logan gritted his teeth. "We have to–"

Carlos looked at the woman with pleading eyes. "What did they–"

Logan growled, and grabbed Carlos by his collar. "Carlos–"

"Let me go!" shouted the raven, desperately trying to get out of Logan's choking hold.

"We need to go n–"

Carlos finally broke free from the brunette's grasp, and turned around to look at him, eyes shaking. "Didn't you hear me the first time? I said _no!_ You don't wanna tell me anything! You don't want to tell me about what happened before, about that stupid letter and now you're trying to stop her from telling me about the radio talk!"

"Do you really think this woman is going to tell _you_, of all people, what they said?" Logan's eyes were burning with rage.

"Yes! _You_ don't want to tell me _crap!_ But if you do, then tell me right _now_. _Tell me_, Law—Logan!" Carlos' face was red.

"Carlos, please stop acting like this," said Logan through gritted teeth, rubbing his temples.

"I don't _know_ how I acted before. And I don't know if _you_ were this big of a _moron_ before!"

Both dogs started to whimper at Carlos and Logan's screams. The woman bit her lip, and whispered something into the man's ear. Without saying a goodbye, they left the alley, the two dogs following them with their tails between their legs. Logan and Carlos didn't notice when the pair left.

"Carlos, shut up," said Logan, bowing his head.

"So you can lie to me more?" Carlos began crying. "I don't know what was going on before, and it kills me that I can't remember _anything_, except for some stupid things–"

"Carlos, please, _shut up_," said Logan, his body beginning to tremble.

"But I _really_ wanna know what they talked abou–"

"I said shut _up!_" screamed Logan at the top of his lungs, which made Carlos jump. Logan covered his mouth, preventing the bile from coming out, and he forced himself to swallow it. Carlos blinked, feeling the wet tears slide down his cheeks. Logan noticed them and he gently grabbed Carlos hand, pulling the smaller boy close to his heaving chest. "I'll tell you about it later."

"And when exactly is later?" asked Carlos in a soft whisper with half-lidded eyes, burying his face on the crook of Logan's neck.

Logan's breath felt warm against Carlos' ear. He gave no answer to the raven's question.

**ooo**

The door burst open and in came Mrs. Knight into apartment 2J's living room, face red like an apple, which was caused by multiplying feelings. "Hello boys, Katie," she said gravely, crossing her arms over her chest as her foot began tapping against the floor.

"Hey, mom," said Kendall, too busy looking at the television to smile directly at his mother.

"Hey, Mrs. Knight," said James, also too busy looking at the screen.

"No fair! You totally cheated!" shouted Katie, also transfixed in the colourful screen of the television.

Currently, they were playing a game, and their fingers were working lightning fast over their controllers. Mrs. Knight's jaw tightened and she walked in front of the television and turned it off, followed by unplugging the game console.

Kendall, James and Katie scowled. "Hey–"

"I want you to tell me _where_ were you," said Mrs. Knight, addressing Kendall and James.

"We went to get ice cream," said Kendall.

James nodded, smiling. "There was this huge special on chocolate ice–"

"I don't want to hear it. Stop lying to me. Now tell me where you really went," demanded Mrs. Knight.

Kendall raised an eyebrow. "We told you, we went to the ice cream par–"

"No, you did not." Mrs. Knight rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands, and then looked at the boys with disappointed eyes. "Kendall, I heard you on the radio."

"Huh? What radio? Mom, you've gone crazy–"

"Don't deny it. I heard what you said–"

"_Mom_, we were at the _ice cream parlor!_" shouted Kendall, eyebrows furrowing once again.

Mrs. Knight sighed. "Kendall–"

"Mrs. Knight, you're right," said James, resting his chin on his hand. "Yes, we were at the radio station." Kendall nudged James on the ribs, but James gave him a glare, silently saying 'just follow my lead and this will be over soon'. "But it was a _very_ important announcement."

Mrs. Knight's face went white. She was about to speak, but was cut off by Katie's voice, "Mom, you're tired. You paid many bills today and you need rest. Too much math for one day." Mrs. Knight's face remained white as Katie stood up from the couch and led her mother to her room, winking before she left the living room. Minutes later, Katie came back, and sat on the couch between James and Kendall. "So what was that about?" she asked. "Did you guys really go to a radio station?"

Both boys shook their heads. "Must have heard some news about us," said James, shrugging.

Kendall smirked. "About _what?_"

James put a hand on his cheek, tapping his fingers against it. "Maybe the media found out about Logan and Carlos going to Canada?"

Kendall rolled his eyes. "Like that's news." And he giggled, and James started to giggle, too.

Katie furrowed her eyebrows. "What's so funny?"

James and Kendall continued to giggle and answered, "Nothing."

"It's an inside joke, baby sister," said Kendall. "A very _deep_, secret inside joke…"

**ooo**

"Are we lost again?" asked Carlos quietly.

"No," answered Logan.

"I think we're lost," muttered Carlos.

Logan stopped in his tracks, causing for Carlos to take a big step back, fearing the brunette might shout at him again. Logan slowly turned around and forced a painful smile. Carlos stood there, shoulders hunched as his heart began to beat. He didn't like being screamed at. It hurt him, and it made him feel like cowering in fear, but he tensed his body in slight courage, awaiting the loud yell to pierce his ears. The shout never came, gratefully. Logan pointed behind him with his thumb, and Carlos looked over the brunette's shoulder, spotting a store.

"What're we gonna buy?" he asked, quickly forgetting about Logan's outburst, curious thoughts filling his mind instead.

"Everything."

Carlos gave a smile, desperately attempting to throw away the new wrenching feeling inside him, focusing on the few optimistic thoughts instead. The corners of his lips turned down slightly when Logan's smile disappeared as he took Carlos' hand in his, leading him rigidly towards the tiny mall.

An hour later, after buying clothes and other important items, and walking on random sidewalks, Logan spotted a building, that looked like a small hotel, hidden in a dark corner. He pointed at the building with his chin, not able to use his hands since he was carrying two suitcases—and Carlos was carrying all the bags that contained the bought things. Carlos soon caught on, and they tiredly walked towards the anonymous hotel.

"We're going to stay here?" asked Carlos, struggling as he walked up the steps.

"Wait. Get out the hats," said Logan firmly.

Carlos moaned when he put the bags down, and took out the baseball caps Logan had bought. He gave the red one to the brunette and kept the black one to himself, putting it on, though it slightly irritated him because of the huge patch on his head. "Why do we need these?" He picked up the bags and pushed one of the doors with his shoulder, making sure to keep it open so Logan could enter, also.

Logan didn't answer, and thought, "We're vulnerable, anyone can spot us now and recognize us since–"

He pushed down a choked cry as he walked towards the front desk—keeping his hat low, covering his eyes—to check out a room. The man behind the desk looked at him suspiciously all the while, but asked no questions. After that, they boarded an elevator, and exited on the floor where their supposed room was in. Carlos looked around, confused, as he tried to find the room they had been assigned to—but all doors looked the same in his vision.

"Where's _our_ number…?"

"There," answered Logan.

They walked a few more feet before stopping in front of a door. Carlos opened it and they entered with slow steps, finding the light switch; the light was a dull yellow. The place wasn't magnificent like Logan had once dreamed when he was in the hospital. But of course, this was Idaho, not Canada; no place had the same aspect as another. The room had a simple bed, and a small television on top of a table. Next to the bed was a wooden cabinet. Besides the bedroom, there was a narrow hall that led to a kitchen, which had a door that seemed to be the entrance to a bathroom by the way it was designed; it certainly wasn't a kitchen closet.

"Well…this…is nice?" wondered Carlos with a nervous chuckle, setting the bags on the floor.

Logan quietly placed the suitcases by a corner. He sighed and rubbed his neck, sitting on the bed. Carlos looked at him sadly and sat on the bed also, keeping his distance from the brunette.

"Logan…" Carlos twiddled with his fingers. "I'm sorry for making you mad. I-I'm just stupid… I bet I was stupid like this befo–"

"No, _I'm_ sorry," said Logan, grabbing Carlos' hand and putting it under his lips, kissing each knuckle lightly. Carlos' mouth went dry as he felt Logan's lips gently brush against his hand. "I'm sorry I yelled at you. I promise you it will never happen again." Carlos pulled his hand away, hesitating to say something. He looked at Logan straight in the eye. He didn't believe him, but the brunette was too caught up in his fantasy that he didn't notice the uncertainty in Carlos' eyes. "Never."

The words echoed in Carlos' mind, each chant sounding hollow. "Logan?" asked Carlos after a few seconds.

"Yes?"

"Are we still going home this week? Because…it's already Saturday."

"Ah…I…I lied. We're actually leaving on Tuesday."

Carlos sighed and lay on the bed, settling his head on Logan's lap. "Fine." Logan leaned down to place a kiss to his lips, but Carlos turned his head to the side; the brunette ended up kissing his cheek. "I just want to rest right now, so stop kissing me." Carlos didn't mean for his words to come out harsh, but he felt Logan's leg twitch just a bit.

Just a small movement. That was it. "You _are_ resting," said Logan as he turned Carlos' head by force and grabbed his chin, holding his face in place, and gave him a gentle peck on the lips. When he pulled away he saw Carlos, whose eyes were closed, while his breathing sounded steady and calm.

Carlos had fallen asleep. Logan kissed his forehead and gently placed the raven on the bed. All the while, his head felt like a dam that was trying to prevent water from overflowing. He rolled his shoulders, neck, and stood up, entering the kitchen. There was a digital clock on the stove, reading one in the afternoon. He walked lazily back to the bed, and cuddled next to Carlos, kissing his caramel neck from behind.

Nothing would happen if they slept for the rest of the day. They were both exhausted. Logan let his eyelids droop, attempting to fall asleep with an empty mind. Many hours later, he was sleeping deeply, and didn't notice when Carlos started to mildly thrash on the bed. Carlos' face was scrunched up into a look of fear, eyes not closed any more, but shut _tight_.

"Please, I don't wanna die! Someone save me!" His breathing became shallow, perspiration running on his forehead.

Somewhere in his pounding mind, his conscious was barking at him to wake up, but he couldn't.

* * *

**A/N:** Gah, poor Carlos.

Hehe, I'm so mean.


	20. Confronted

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Big Time Rush.

**Warning: **Contains slight intimate scenes. Logan/Carlos.

**Twenty – Confronted**

Shards of glass were shooting across the atmosphere, slicing invisible particles in the air along with raindrops of vibrant-red blood and chunks of chafed skin. There were filthy scraps everywhere, digging between the thick, miniscule hairs of the carpet, seats and people's skin. Carlos felt a warm embrace around him, which made him feel safe for a second before it was suddenly gone when the airplane tilted. He slid quickly across the floor, went past a couple of curtains, and he somehow landed inside the cockpit.

"Let go of me!" shouted a hoarse, weak voice.

His eyes opened slightly, peeking at the unknown scene in front of him; there was a man with a gun, fiercely trying to knock down an elderly man with vivid rage in his eyes. "Ah– Yes!" the elderly man cheered, having knocked the attacker unconscious with his own gun. Keeping an eye on the man from the corner of his eye, he put the gun on the floor, as far away from the man as possible and began pressing and twisting buttons.

Seeing this, it made an anonymous relief pour within Carlos' mind. He was about to stand up when he lost his balance and accidentally tripped. Upon falling, his elbow hit something unknown, making pain jolt right through it. The plane shook and he slid to the right, hitting another set of joysticks and buttons.

"What the hell have you done, you idiot!_"_ the elderly man shouted in wild concern.

Carlos' eyes were filled with transparent tears, wet and warm as they rolled down his cheeks, down his jaw and dripped down to his throat. "I didn't do–"

"No! Damn, we're in for a rough landing." The man wheezed as he sat on his chair and desperately ran his hands over the control system. "You're going to get us all killed! F–!"

Carlos' eyes went wide in agonizing fear. "_What?_"

"You heard me! This is your damn fault!"

"No, I don't wanna die!" cried Carlos as he stood up; he, promptly, crashed down on the floor when the plane shifted again, causing for his face to hit one of the windows. "Please, I don't wanna die! Someone save me!"

"Ah, shut up, kid! You're not making this any better!" the man yelled, irritation and immense fear glowing simultaneously in his eyes.

The elderly man ceased moving, clutching the seat's sides. Hhis face was still, paralyzed like a wax figure. They were so close to the ground. The trees below seemed to ripple intensely. Everything became a blur with colours smudged everywhere as they came down, almost as fast as the speed of light.

Carlos awoke. His eyes were open wide, the size of two big marbles, sweat running like thick streams across his face. He noticed he was breathing irregularly so he took in deep breaths, and then let them out as slowly as possible. He turned his head to the side, heart beginning to beat loudly when he saw Logan sound asleep. It crossed his mind, all of a sudden—an instinctive thought—that he looked different than when he was awake; he actually looked _innocent_ and _adorable_ in Carlos' vision. His stomach tightened then, the peaceful image turning invisibly sour as he remembered everything that had happened yesterday…or was it still today?

Carlos tilted his head, the bright ray of afternoon light hitting his eyes, making him squint. The curtains were open, tied together sloppily with white, slender, crippled rope so the view could be revealed. All he could spot were muted buildings; if he'd gotten closer, he could have seen the people and cars on the streets, all racing to get home right after work and rest or sleep, and if he'd opened the window, he could've heard the loud car horns—each driver begging for the other one to hurry up—and the people, either greeting each other or insulting everyone who got in their way.

Carlos groaned low in his throat and turned away from the picture, facing the ceiling, which was a bland colour—a plain, dark light in the room that wasn't blinding like the outside light; it was a mellow shine, which was comfortable to the raven's eyes, and the ambience of the place was relaxing and peaceful enough to momentarily make him forget about today's earlier maladroit episodes. Sadly, that all changed rapidly when he tried to sit up, but Logan stirred, throwing his arms around Carlos' body, preventing the raven from escaping.

"Man," Carlos whined under his breath, feeling uneasy under the boy's casual hold.

"Carlos…" whispered Logan, opening his eyes to meet the raven's, whose eyes were anything but cheery. "Good morning."

"Morning," mumbled Carlos as he slipped out of Logan's arms, leaving the fair-skinned boy slightly dumbfounded.

Realizing he still had the hat on, he took it off and threw it on the floor, and then snatched the remote controller from the cabinet's surface, turning on the television. Carlos could hear as Logan moved on the bed, the sheets beneath his body ruffling lightly. He tried hard to ignore it by burying himself under the same sheets, pulling them up to his chin and watching the TV, seeing unfamiliar characters move at a slow pace on the screen, faces as beautiful as an angel, except some of them were ruined by their bitter expressions.

Logan's body warmth seemed to get closer to Carlos', and then he was pressed up against him. Carlos shivered, and he didn't have time to scoot away since Logan had already put a hand on his shoulder, turning him around. The raven stared at up at the brunette, and Logan smiled down at him, moving his head down to press his mouth against Carlos'. With the same hand, he pulled down the sheets, revealing Carlos' neck, then half of his body, and moved up to the caramel jaw.

"Can you please stop doing that?" questioned the raven solemnly, forcing his eyes to look at the television, the image of the red, infuriated faces make him all the more nervous.

"Stop what?" countered Logan, looking at Carlos with a puzzled face.

"I'm not feeling comfortable."

"Not comfortable with what?"

Carlos looked at Logan from the corner of his eye. He sighed and stood up, heading his way towards the kitchen. "I'm gonna take a shower."

Logan watched as the small boy disappeared, and called out annoyingly after he heard the click of the bathroom door, "Fine. I'm going out."

The voices were loud in his ears, making him twitch erratically. He quickly grabbed the remote control and turned off the television, then laid the control on pillow. A hard scowl formed on Logan's eyebrows. He made his way towards the entrance door, and with every step he took he grinded his teeth; if it was virtually possible, they would've been powder by now. He stopped at the door, lifted his fist and pounded it against the wall; the colour of his knuckles went from white to a bright red, and he didn't even pay attention to the pain that started to spread as he opened the door. He tipped his hat down and exited. A fleeting breeze formed when he closed the door, then it slipped away, its cold air spreading through the apartment, which later became warm and fuzzy like the tepid air of the tiny, hotel room when Carlos came out of the shower, dripping wet from head to toe with a towel wrapped loosely around his trembling waist.

**ooo**

There was good news and bad news. Kendall and James, obviously, didn't look forward to the bad news. Actually, there was more bad news than good news, which didn't float well in their overly-stuffed minds. They were fidgeting wildly in their seats, _too_ close together since Katie had demanded for a full seat. Mrs. Knight didn't trust any of them to sit in the front. Now, as the older woman was driving, sighing every second, both boys struggled to keep their faces from getting red or, at least, pink-free. The past days had been kind of—to some degree—awkward, and of course, sitting this close together they had realized something. Something different.

It wasn't when James had kissed Kendall—because it'd just been one time, and it hadn't even been a real kiss, they'd just been fooling around. It was another thing. It'd been almost two weeks since they'd seen Logan and Carlos. Tuesday had come quick, and now they were all going to the airport where they were going to pick up the two boys. They hadn't thought of it, but it was kind of unknown how they were all going to react, including themselves. Maybe they were going to be mushy in public and people wouldn't approve of that. It was enough when everyone thought Kendall had been at the radio station, and they made an even bigger mess of it by trying to defend themselves.

After a few days it had died down, and everyone began to believe it was a lie. It wasn't big news (and right after other news about bigger celebrities took over) but it was for some of the girls—especially Jo, Camille and Stephanie. James and Kendall had to sit down with them for nearly two hours and explain to them with repeating sentences that it was a lie, and being stubborn as they were, they finally accepted their redundant explanations. And so, at the moment, James and Kendall were more anxious than ever and Mrs. Knight was speechless. Following that, the boys had been demanded, maybe threatened, by Gustavo to come to the studio, which was always bad news.

Logan and Carlos didn't know about that _yet_, but James was going to make sure they knew and took the news like _mans_, and not flee. He knew because Kendall had tried to bail, a bad choice since he was the supposed leader of the band. James had shaken his head in disappointment like a father does when he realizes his son likes dancing instead of wrestling.

"Are we there yet?" asked Katie, slumping on her seat.

"I'm parking right now, sweetie," said Mrs. Knight in a tired voice.

Apart from the bad news, the only good thing the blonde and the brunette had to look forward to was the coming of their friends. Which wasn't really all that pleasant because right after they picked them up they still had to deal with Gustavo's fit of unpleasant anger.

"It's been, like, forever," commented Katie, her eyelids closing halfway.

Right at that moment, Kendall's cell phone rang.

James looked at him quizzically and Kendall returned the look, then hesitantly took his phone out of his jeans pocket. He flipped it open, but the number on the screen wasn't one he recognized.

"Answer the phone," said Katie abruptly, annoyed by the endless melody.

Kendall looked at her with slight surprise, and then at the screen of the phone. His thumb swiftly pressed the answer button and he brought the cellular up to his ear. "Hello…?"

"Um…is this Kenne– Kendall…?" the voice was raspy and husky.

"Who's this?"

"I don't know… Guess?"

"I don't know."

"Well then, I don't know either."

Suddenly, there was another voice on the other line, "Carlos? What're you doing? Are you talking to someone?"

"No!"

Then it was cut.

"Who was that?" asked James, the dim gleam in his eyes showing that he was a bit curious.

"I think it was Carlos," said Kendall slowly, furrowing his eyebrows as he let his phone drop to the floor of the car, a light thump echoing vaguely in the car.

"Are they at the airport yet?" asked Mrs. Knight, ignoring the sound.

Kendall rolled in his bottom lip and bit on it, hard enough to draw blood. He sat silent—Carlos' unusual and distant voice running through his head over and over. "I…I don't know."

**ooo**

"I told you not to call anyone! It was Kendall, wasn't it? I could hear his voice. How did you even get his number? Are you _stupid_, Carlos?"

Carlos' eyes flickered to the floor, then to the wall behind Logan. Though his head was throbbing with the questions Logan had asked him, he only answered one—the last one, "No, I'm not."

"Of course you are, because you didn't listen to me! You don't do what I tell you t–"

"I'm not stupid! Stop it!" Carlos took in a deep breath, trying hard not to let the tears spill. "And of course I don't. I'm not a dog or a horse, or any other animal. I'm a human being, and you can't always tell me what to do."

Logan's face went grave. "Sure, I can." He clasped his hands on Carlos' wrists and leaned his face in the crook of the small boy's neck. "'Cause you belong to me," he whispered determinedly.

"I'm not an object…"

"Of course you're not," answered Logan; the remark contradicted his previous statement, but he hardly regarded it—he just spoke it.

Once that was said, the question—the one he'd been trying to avoid—popped into Carlos' head like a rock thrown at a clear, blue lake, and then his lips parted instinctively, uttering the short sentence as if trying to confront something, "Why did I ever like you?"

"Why did you, Carlos?" responded Logan, barely paying attention to the raven's tone of voice and his own words.

His answer was rhetorical, but Carlos was unaware of it.

He pushed him until they were at a shady corner, secluded enough that no one could hear them. If Logan had craned his neck a bit, he could have seen the comforting light of the airport, and the kids, teens and adults that were rapidly running across the dirty floor; but his eyes were glued on Carlos' uncertain face. The question the raven had asked was bouncing violently in his head, but he suppressed the urge to let it escape as he stared at Carlos' lips, which were pressed together, not letting a single sound—not even a small breath—exit. The corners of Logan's lips turned upward, a bizarre smile adding to the scary contortion of his blank yet lustful expression. He hungrily pressed his mouth against Carlos', pushing him farther against the uncomfortable corner—if it was even possible. He then brought his hands down, roaming them all over the raven's shifting hips, down to his crotch where he squeezed.

Carlos moaned impulsively, and Logan happily swallowed the erotic sound. All the while, Carlos' fists were clenching and unclenching as he lifted up his leg, ready to knee the brunette between the legs; then, before he could do it, Logan's grip on his wrists vanished and a heavy gust of air plummeted into his mouth, down to his lungs. Carlos blinked rapidly, watching as Logan was pulled away by an invisible figure, the boy's eyes and face showing great perplexity. Carlos stood still in the corner until Logan's body stopped moving—a foot or two away from him. He was pushed upright and from behind him came a boy that was a little bit taller than Logan, with semi-long blonde hair and eyebrows that were probably bushier than Carlos'.

The blonde put his hands on his hips, raising his eyebrows at Carlos, then at Logan, whose face gradually turned red—and it certainly wasn't a red that met the natural standards of a blush. As Carlos deliberately stepped from the corner, Logan wiped his mouth and walked a few steps, stood next to him and kept his breath quiet. The raven could tell that he was trying to control his breathing, avoiding the heavy gasps that Carlos knew all too well since they'd been in Idaho—Logan was trying to control his anger, and it confused Carlos. Logan looked at the blonde, whose eyebrows were still raised, mouth about to open so he could say something.

"You know, people can see you here. If I can find you easily, others can, too. So, if you two are gonna make-out, I would suggest something like a bathroom stall. For example, it's narrower. Better being pressed up against each other than making an effort in a dark corner, right?" he said, smirking playfully.

Carlos was about to speak, but Logan nudged him in the ribs, cutting off the words in his throat. "You're earlier than I predicted, Kendall," muttered Logan, avoiding the blonde's eyes.

"Yeah. We thought it'd be easier if we ditched traffic, and um–" Kendall stopped himself short, giving a sudden apologetic look to the pair. "There's something I need to tell you guys… I don't wanna make things complicated right now since you've just barely arrived, so I'll explain…somewhere…in between. We…need to go meet Gustavo first," he added with uneasiness.

"Tell us what?" questioned Logan, entirely ignoring Kendall's last comment. The red engraved itself deeper into his face, making it look like a ripe tomato.

"Well… I don't know if you guys heard about the radio incident…"

Logan's body shot up, a taunting tingling sensation going up and down his spine. Carlos' did the same, though the cause was different; his mouth opened in an 'o', a look of tedious bewilderment spreading across his face.

"Kendall! That… Can you tell me what happened–" he exclaimed, taking a step forward, leaving Logan three inches behind. The brunette, on the other hand, stood still, his face rigid and his eyes blank. Carlos looked behind him, and the immediate ecstasy in him faded as he saw Logan; he looked back at Kendall, who was staring at him with a puzzled face. Carlos pressed his lips together and stepped back, setting his body next to Logan's. "Uh– Never mind…" he mumbled, the tone of his voice now vacant.

He'd ask later. Somewhere where Logan would be absent. His skin went tight and he realized that Logan's hand was wrapped around his wrist; but Carlos tried hard to keep a familiar expression on his face, calm yet unstable as Kendall stared at them both, as if noticing something was wrong between them and was briefly trying to probe their silent language, but couldn't. At least, not yet.

* * *

**A/N: **Well, I finally quit procrastinating on this. Hooray?

Ah, who am I kidding. Boohoo, I suck, don't I? Ah, the simple joys of procrastinating…which are none.


	21. Delusive Revelations

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Big Time Rush.

**Warning:** Logan/Carlos. (Italics = Flashback)

**Twenty-one – Delusive Revelations**

It was the middle of the afternoon. The inside of the car was loud yet noisy on the exterior—and compared to the inside of it, it was the most comfortable place to be; right in the middle of the street, possibly having the chance to be run over and die instantly and randomly, and then have to go to one of those unknown spirit realms rather than the clouds of mental frustration, sorrow and ineptness, and a few unseen choking spaces that held nothing but imaginary, stuffy and dusty air. Faces were impassive inside the car; beads of cool, glinting perspiration were slipping on different skin tones.

Mrs. Knight had tried to speak—here and there—but her words had gotten stuck like a fly caught on duct tape when she saw the supposed couple (and she still wondered about Kendall and James); she had been at a loss for _any_ words, entirely. Furthermore, James had been shocked by the small cuts and bruises that painted his friends' faces, but hadn't asked about it as an overwhelming feeling of nausea and confusion had washed over him. He had been so determined to be neutral about this whole weird situation, but then a twig snapped in half inside his mind, and all the controlled knowledge leaked out.

Kendall had continued to drift in his deep-in-thought moment, glancing at the two, all the while gaining a few small headaches from the curious, forced glances he shot at the pair—especially out of the corner of his eyes. In front of the car, the radio was on, showing off a moderate song, resembling those pop-like classical songs that could lift anybody's mood up—but it failed with them. It only added to the thick silence that was coated with a sense of unsureness. Only Katie was unaffected, though.

She looked at Logan and Carlos with her cute yet piercing brown eyes, begging to know something, _anything_. "What happened to you?" she simply inquired with a tolerant smile, motioning with her hand at their defiled faces.

Her voice was like a spear through cotton; the boys' heads all snapped towards her, expressions all quizzical. They'd been so used to the silence. Carlos especially; he stared at her, face scrunched up like when a baby eats a lemon. The ribbons of thought swayed back and forth all in his mind, trying to connect something, connect it to her words. He wanted to say something, but _something_ was pushing him back, daring him to be silent; and that something was sitting right next to him, holding a dear, strong and frightening love for him that tore through his heart and mind, and made him oblivious and questionable to everything.

So, seeming as he wasn't going to answer and Logan was obviously shut tight in his silent corner, Kendall took the chance to climb and join his little sister on the bold stair step and chimed in, "Yeah. Let me guess—you got them from hockey over there?"

He forced a cocky smile, but none of the two boys answered. Kendall gulped, and maintained his expression. He wanted to desperately do something; to get rid of this strange tension. Evidently, he knew the half cause for it. And Logan did, too. There wasn't much he could do when his best friend thought he had been betrayed through a national radio. That still didn't explain Carlos, though. Kendall thought he would've been shocked, then gone hysterical and then slept with happy dreams of forgiveness—yet those predictions didn't seem transparent at all by the way Carlos was acting—he was taciturn, as if hiding something (a strange combination at that).

James spoke up for the first time since the airport, startling Kendall—who was sitting next to him—out of his new thoughts. "So, uh, who won the game?" He looked eager; his voice was casual, no shaky vocals visible. His eyes were on the silent pair, silently roaming their blemishes, but commenting nothing about them. "The hockey game? In Canada?" he reminded. Maybe they'd had too much fun that they were tired, and forgot how to speak and move.

As James' words were said, a swirling sensation compressed and decompressed suddenly and instantaneously in the pit of Carlos' stomach. He put a hand over his mouth as the sensation continued to spiral awkwardly, and then heavily settled down.

James looked at the raven, a concerned frown on his face. "You okay?" he asked.

Carlos nodded quietly, lowering his hand to his stomach.

All the while, James stared at where Carlos' hand was resting. He raised his eyebrows and spoke, "Did something happen t–"

"He's fine," intruded Logan, not looking at James, but at Carlos with a soft, twisted look.

Carlos turned red at that moment as Logan, James and Kendall's gazes were now transfixed on him. He bit his lip and shook off his hand off his stomach and settled it on the cushy material of the seat. Gladly, the moment was broken when the door opened. A large man peeked his head in and reached for Logan and Kendall's collars; the appearance was surprising enough that it made them all jump. Carlos stared, horrified, as Logan and Kendall were slung over the huge man's shoulders like worn rag dolls. He turned to James, desperately seeking for some kind of reassurance. But instead he got a confused stare from the tall brunette, and a small wave in front of the face.

"Carlos? Are you sure you're okay, man?"

He was frozen in his seat for what seemed an eternity.

Finally, Mrs. Knight, concerned, turned around and questioned James, "Is he okay?" her tone was truly worried.

Questions unanswered, the raven kept staring as the man went inside the building, disappearing from view with Logan, who looked annoyed as ever, and Kendall, who was trying to 'keep it cool', seeming as he was forced here by James—and if he'd had the chance, wouldn't have come and told Gustavo he was sick. Majorly. The same coiling and uncoiling sensation from earlier returned to Carlos' stomach. In a moment of odd instinct, he rushed out of the car and just missed them by a second. His head hit the closing door and he dropped roughly onto the cement, the back of his head coming into contact with rough pebbles and dirt. After what seemed hours—which really was a minute or two—he let out a loud groan.

"Carlos? Carlos wake up, you're seriously worrying me," he recognized the voice as that guy's voice; the one he'd temporarily forgotten. "You should've brought your helmet… Is it still in the luggage? Mrs. Knight! Mrs. Knight!"

"Is he okay?"

"I don't know."

Then came a little girl's voice, "Whoa. That looked like it _hurt_."

"Is it there, Carlos? Your helmet? Don't tell me you lost it." Now he remembered: James. James' voice sounded hazy.

Carlos opened his eyes, slightly squinting as a ray of bright sunlight penetrated his aching pupils. "My helmet…?" he repeated. The sensation returned.

_"It _did_ cost a lot… Really…" whispered Carlos as his legs moved in synchronization with Logan's._

_School had ended minutes ago, and they were walking home; James and Kendall had been left behind since they had to make up a test. Skipping was never a good idea. _

_They were walking separately, keeping their distance. Lunch was still lingering in their minds, and James' comment about Logan going out with Carlos was fresh in their thoughts. In reality, though, it was only Logan who was affected. Carlos seemed fine. Fine, _completely_, since he had opened his mouth and had attempted to make conversation, or at least, small talk to get rid of the uncanny atmosphere._

_"I really liked it, and that's when I–"_

_"I get it, Carlos," said Logan as he stared at the passing concrete._

_"You don't think it's stupid?"_

_Logan ceased walking, and looked at his friend in awe. "Of course not! Well, at first—I-I did. But now…it's…cool, I guess…?"_

_The raven smiled. "I know, right?" He moved his backpack to the front, quickly unzipped it and took out the black, shiny helmet. Slinging his backpack to the back, he put the helmet on his head, buckled the straps and grinned like a charming idiot. "It's the coolest thing _ever_."_

_Logan smiled back at him, silently admitting that the helmet _was_ pretty cool, after all. And subconsciously he thought it looked awfully cute on Carlos._

A choking gasp made its way out of his throat and puffed out heavily from his mouth as he sat up abruptly, almost smashing his face against the brunette's since James had already crouched down. The tall boy's eyes were mounted with concern. He lifted a hand and Carlos followed each and every movement of it until it was on his forehead, which oddly calmed his nerves.

"What the–" James was also surprised. "Are you sick or something?" his tone was demanding.

Carlos breathed in and out, and could feel the sweat forming on his forehead from the relaxing heat of James' hand. "N-no," he stuttered out.

His eyes quickly searched the area and noticed that the woman and the little girl, whom he didn't remember the names of, were gone. He removed the hand gently with a quick swipe of his own hand, shocking James a bit, and stood up with a crooked smile that made no sense whatsoever. "Let's go inside." In fact, he didn't know _where_ he was going inside, so he let James take the lead. This time, the snake-like sensation was stronger.

Once inside, the door that lead to the room where they were supposed to be at was unlocked, and James was grateful for that. When they entered, the air was, in a quirky manner, clear, but the faces inside were contradicting each other entirely. Logan was sitting on the far right, whereas Kendall was on the far left. The blonde kept shooting worried glances at the short brunette, pleading in his mind, 'I'm sorry if you're mad at me. I don't want you to be. We can talk this over later, right? It was a stupid accident and I was supposed to be careful.' He kept reciting this in his head subconsciously. But how could he apologize if there were no damaged feelings that he could repair? They were all inside Logan at the moment, compressed in a box of fury, ignoring the blonde's presence.

James and Carlos silently took their seats then; James next to Logan, and Carlos absentmindedly taking the seat next to Kendall. Before something else could happen, such as Logan yank on Carlos' arm and demand him to sit next to him (the same happened when they were entering Mrs. Knight's car) the entrance doorwas pushed forcefully. In came in another big man with a stylish hat and black sunglasses; his attire, mainly, intimidated Carlos to the core, though his emotions were soon mended when a woman with a pretty face, nice body and a genuine awkward smile that kind of pleased Carlos for some reason entered behind. Almost too quickly, the big man caught his eyes and scowled roughly, and it terrified Carlos a bit since he couldn't quite catch the man's eyes the same way he did to his since his sunglasses were dark, concealing his pupils.

"What are you looking at, dog?" the man's voice was deep with a rugged tone.

Carlos' head jerked down at the comment, and a red blush thinly coated his cheeks. He then felt something pat his back, and when he looked up to the side he noticed it was Kendall's hand, consoling him as he rolled his eyes at the man.

"Kendall!" the man shouted as he sat down, obviously catching the rude eye roll.

The blonde jumped, startled, which made his hand land roughly on Carlos' neck. The raven let out a squeaky cry at the unplanned contact.

Kendall, failing to listen to the tiny whine, looked absolutely embarrassed. At that moment, his fear was triggered on, and words fell out of his mouth like a fast-running river, "It wasn't me, Gustavo! I swear, I didn't know that lady–"

"Dogs, you will return Saturday _here_."

"–was there." Kendall stopped and blinked, Gustavo's recent words racing in a perplexing speed in his mind. "Huh?"

"'_Huh_' what? You heard what I said!" retorted Gustavo.

Kendall opened his mouth to speak, ran his thoughts over, then continued, "Wait… You didn't want to talk about…" His mouth opened in an 'o', eyebrows rising slowly.

"Talk about what?"

"Uh, never mind," answered Kendall almost too quickly in a high-pitched voice, rubbing his palms against his jeans nervously.

Gustavo was about to interrogate, then figured it would be something stupid. He searched the boy's faces with a final frown, analyzed their expressions, stood up and exited the room without another word.

"Oh, my God," Kendall breathed, settling his head on the desk.

James looked around, partly dazzled. "What just happened?"

"I don't know," Kendall's voice came out muffled.

"I know," came a soft, female voice.

Both boys turned their heads around. "Kelly?" Carlos' head turned around as well; Logan's face continued to blank out.

Kelly made a face, an open one that made it noticeable she was going to speak about something important, "You. Are. _Lucky_," was all she said, shaking her head.

"Lucky?" questioned James. "Gustavo doesn't really know about that?"

"Neither does he know about the credit cards."

The comment was uttered so fleetingly yet _normally_ that it caused for James and Kendall to gasp, and then turn a bright red, a firm square of shame settling in their heads, completely dismayed at being found out. They thought they'd been sneaky and reserved about that whole plan—that now seemed absurd in some way—and it turned out that someone as simple as Kelly had found all about it, and not someone as aggressive and witty like Gustavo. It was astonishing, indeed.

"Nor…the trip."

"How did you find out?" questioned Kendall, looking at her with a half-sheepish, half depressed look.

She didn't answer him, and Kendall oddly preferred that. Maybe it was best he shouldn't find out how she did it, or else something might happen and they'd be kicked out by Gustavo—or worse, _she'd_ be fired. As she smiled and stepped out, Kendall heard a small whine escape out of James' lips, sounding upset. He threw a half smile at the tall brunette, and James returned a dull look with scrunched up lips. The room was quiet now, and Kendall quickly took that opportunity as he remembered his most important thought. He spoke Logan's name with a moderate tone that expressed effort, and at the same time Carlos' familiar husky voice shyly spoke the blonde's. There was a pause; Kendall turned pink, took one last look at Logan and decided in a hurry he could apologize later. "Yes, Carlos?"

Between that, Logan got that same irritation from the car, stood up and stalked out of the room. They all blinked.

"Um… I'll leave you two alone. Gonna…go join him," said James as he rubbed his arm, and gently walked out of the room.

A minute passed. Kendall's eyes were shaking with anticipation. "Did you wanna tell me something, Carlos?"

The raven blushed. "Um…" He shifted his eyes, looking around as if he was making sure that they were the only two people in this room. "Can you tell me…what happened in the radio thing?" He was trying to be as subtle as he could.

"What do you mean—you didn't hear about it?" Kendall sounded utterly surprised.

Carlos shook his head innocently.

Kendall raised an eyebrow. "But Logan knows–"

"Is that why he's angry? With you?" His questions were innocent, also.

Kendall was now flabbergasted. "Carlos, what _happened?_"

"What happened of what?"

"I mean– Didn't you hear–"

"Who was that man?"

"What?"

"That fat man and the cute lady."

Kendall sucked in a breath. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"No. A joke?"

Kendall stared at the raven, having a hard time finding the right words; Carlos' last sentence alone had him shocked.

A few hours had passed; it was around six p.m. now. Outside in the hallway was James, who knocked on the door of Gustavo's office, but no one opened the door. He tried twisting the doorknob until he felt that natural budge, meaning it was locked. Curious as to why, he pressed his ear against the door, hoping to get some answers, and was immediately shocked by what he heard: soft sobbing followed by a bunch of undistinguished words and noises. James' throat went tight at that. He knocked on the door again, about three times, each knock getting louder.

He waited a few more seconds until the door seemed to open, slowly and eerily—then, in a flash, it opened widely and out ran Carlos, whipping pass him like a deer running from its predator. Having seen this in a split second, James stood paralyzed there until he regained the physical strength to move again. He took a step forward, one by one until he was inside the room. And what he saw left him with a chilly feeling; Kendall was still sitting on his chair with the whitest expression James had ever seen; he practically looked like a ghost, eyes blank and big, lips parted slightly, hands subconsciously gripping the edges of the chair.

"Kendall…?" James took a step forward. Slight colour returned to the blonde's face at the sound of the brunette's hushed tone. "Is everything all right?"

Kendall's lips pursed in a humourless smile.

Seeming as he wouldn't speak, James decided to share his news first, "Something happened."

Kendall looked at him as if James had spoken in Gibberish. His thoughts were in pain, and all he could manage to say without any logic at all was, "Okay. What the hell could be more important, James? See, this is the problem. We let them go. Smarty and Mr. McReckless. You think everything's going to be fine, but then–"

"Logan's missing," interrupted James.

**ooo**

Her eyes showed clear concern and some kind of unidentified fear; they were practically red from blinking excessively. Her hair swayed gently side to side or back and forth when she shook her head, desperately trying to organize her thoughts. Her hands were shaking occasionally, trembling as she gripped unseen air.

"Mom, you don't look so well," said Katie, a bit irritated.

They were in the Palm Woods parking lot, in the car still, with the engine running. Mrs. Knight remained silent. A dry lump caught in her throat that prevented her from speaking any reasonable, succinct answers to reassure her daughter that she was absolutely fine—which she was obviously not.

"Are you worried?"

"Worried for my boys?" said Mrs. Knight. Kendall and James had convinced her that the news had been false; but not about Logan and Carlos. "No. But I _am_ worried about their parents."

"Why? I don't think they know."

Mrs. Knight sighed to herself, and settled her forehead against the wheel. "I called them…"

"And?"

Mrs. Knight waited a moment to answer. "They're coming," she mumbled with a tone of dissatisfaction.

**ooo**

"What?" Kendall frowned; not just any frown, but the one that only appeared at rare times when something bad was really going on. His mind hurt entirely, obsessed with the words Carlos had spoken to him in a never-ending line of muddled and guilty paragraphs. He looked at James, felt anger boil up inside him, and it took all his will to keep from knocking the brunette's teeth out of his mouth.

"Logan's missing," repeated James.

Kendall's muteness prolonged, his heart throbbing with new emotions—emotions he didn't like. "What do I care?" he said simply.

James' eyes opened wide. "I can't find him _anywhere_, Kendall. We should call your m–"

"_No_. I mean, _what do I care?_"

"Why are you so angry all of a sudden?" protested James.

"Go ask Logan himself," answered Kendall bitterly.

There was something about the tone of his voice that made James uncomfortable. "Did something happen when you talked to Carlos? Did he say something?"

Kendall looked at him gravely with extreme hurt in his eyes. "I don't damn care if he's pissed off because of the whole radio incident."

James stared at Kendall, feeling uneasy by the way his friend had cussed. By now, he'd forgotten all about Logan's disappearance, and just wanted to know what Carlos had done to make Kendall bipolar so suddenly.

Kendall grimaced then, choked back a cry, and ended up speaking softly in a hoarse voice, "Logan. I think…I think he raped Carlos."

* * *

**A/N: **… Yeah.

See ya next chapter. If I ever get there.

Okay, never mind. Ignore that.


	22. Ill With Deceit

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Big Time Rush.

**Warning:** Logan/Carlos. Implied James/Carlos. (Italics = Flashback)

**Twenty-two – Ill With Deceit**

Something must've clicked within James, considering his face went pallid—almost equivalent to the shade of a white dove—before it languidly returned to its normal, silky colour.

"Dude. That's not funny at all." He looked at Kendall with an expression that meant he was actually serious for once, and not just some sophomore that was divinely obsessed with himself.

"Of course it's not. Do you think I'm kidding about this? This– This is not something–" The blonde let out a tight grunt, buried his face in his hands and began pulling gently at his hair.

"Well, aren't you…?" questioned James, baffled.

Raising his head slowly, Kendall stared at him as if James had gone insane. He blinked a couple of times, shook his head and spoke in a sullen tone, "You actually think I _am_?"

James returned the expression. He let out a small, uneasy laugh as he crossed his arms over his chest and added a light mock to his lips. "Well, _duh_. Logan wouldn't do…th-that kind of thing." He waited for another excuse, but never got one. "Right…?" No answer. James now felt edgy; moreover, precarious.

To make matters a tad bit worse, the moment was shot with a heavy dose of intense silence. The two boys stared at each other, both desiring to know what was racing in their minds, James wanting to the most—because, really, Kendall sounded crazy right now. There was a twitch in Kendall's eye, a tiny giveaway that caused for James to read the blonde's mind for a fleeting moment and crack another one of his famous interchangeable smiles. Not quite a terrible one, but a sympathetic and _almost_ empathetic one. Concurrently, he was studying Kendall's features, unaware that he was doing it impulsively.

"Are you about to cry?" guessed James.

The glare in the blonde's slightly red-stained eyes was sharp as he sucked in a struggling breath, forcing his throat to open, ridding himself of the sour pain. "If you start laughing I swear I'll punch you," he growled, wiping away a developing tear with his hand.

"I'm not laughing," commented James, sort of bothered by the way Kendall quickly portrayed his actions. "And that joke isn't pretty funny either."

"I'm not joking, James!" shouted Kendall. "You should've heard Carlos, h-he–"

A loud click suddenly popped in their ears, with boisterous stomps accompanying it. Knowing those sounds all too well, James stepped to the side, a few feet away, avoiding Gustavo when he came in. Noticing the two boys, the man's face gradually began coating itself with a light red, face features going rigid. As he puffed up in obvious irritation, he looked from James to Kendall about five times before he opened his mouth.

Out came the words from his pudgy lips, voice booming, "What are you dogs still do–"

A white, silky-looking towel suddenly sprung up and landed on his face, covering it entirely; after that, he went down like a bear shot with a tranquilizer. Kelly came in then with a guilty look. Nervously chewing on her pinky nail, she bent down and took the silky towel from Gustavo's face. Meanwhile, James and Kendall's eyes were glued on her, mouths open slightly.

"Did you just…" Kendall trailed off, not knowing whether to be scared or bemused; his emotions were still a jumbled mess.

"What the heck was that?" James exclaimed, horrified.

"It was the only way I could keep him from finding out anything," explained Kelly timorously in a high-pitched voice. She stood up, and looked at them skeptically. "Anyway, what are you two still doing here? Did Logan and Carlos leave without you?"

Taking in her question, Kendall blurted out, "Kelly, you know about them?"

"Of course," she said, smiling self-confidently. "When we started having problems in the studio, like the _tarantulas_," she gave the two boys a half-glare, causing for both of them to turn a light pink, "I knew something was up. So I did my research, and I found my evidence. I let you off the hook, though." She rolled her eyes. "Honestly, when I heard your voice in the radio, I freaked. If it hadn't died down quickly, we would've had to deal with a lot issues. Still, you guys are doing a pretty good job keeping it a secret."

She had unmasked most of the camouflaged dilemmas, but the boys kept quiet at the moment about the bathroom episode. She thought they were being careless right now, but that had been one of the worst things they'd ever done: to speak about something so private in a public place, especially if it endangered their friendship. But of course, that friendship meant nothing to Kendall right now.

Kelly sighed, and looked down at Gustavo kindly. "But you still have to be prepared for when you tell _him_. He will have to know one day, like it or not."

Kendall was disturbed, but James even more. All what Kelly had just said went in and out of his ears like a cold, blown wind. "Wh-what…what was in that towel?"

"Relax, it's just chloroform," she replied.

No further questions were asked as the boys carefully walked around Gustavo and out the room, closing the door behind them. Synonymously, they pretended to know nothing about what just happened. Minutes later, they were able to locate an empty hallway, and so they settled there, both quiet. Kendall stared at a wall—avoiding the tall brunette's eyes—as if it held illustrations that contained symbolic answers saying that everything will come out good in the end. In any case, the perturbing episode resumed.

James let out a heavy breath. "So what are we going to do? I didn't even know about this whole love fest until _you_ told me!"

"So you believe me?" Kendall questioned, changing his gaze to James, eyebrows scrunched.

"Well…" James paused and waited. He then opened his mouth and said firmly, "_No_." Though as soon as he saw the deadpan expression on Kendall's face, he changed his attitude quickly and decided to be empathetic one more time. "What'd he tell you?" he asked reluctantly. The question sounded highly insensitive and inappropriate, but it was the only way to make sure that what Kendall was saying was legit—and he didn't want it to be.

The blonde was quiet. However, he responded in a faint voice, "He was talking about random stuff all of a sudden. But I hadn't asked him anything." The tense look in his eyes showed that he wasn't having a fun time either. "Some things about Logan kissing him…touching him…saying things to him, but he didn't tell me what. There was other stuff, too…" He didn't want to go further, for he knew if he did he would go into another state of mind-wrecking confusion.

"Touched him?" asked James, gulping to keep his nerves down. "Touching can mean anything; from…from hugs to…to just normal stuff." He remembered when the raven had fallen earlier by the entrance, and the small incidents in the car, but that was probably irrelevant. He just _refused_ to believe. Kendall might be smart, but he wasn't always right—neither was he great listener. "Also, you can't just start assuming things, Kendall. _Logan_ would never do something like that."

"What if he did," said Kendall, deep remorse in his voice.

"You said so yourself that he's been crushin' on Carlos since forever. And it must've been real since you guys never told me." He let the annoyance sink from his voice before he started again, "I-I'm sure whatever happened over there was nothing. If something _did_ they'll probably tell us later when they're ready. Give 'em some time, Kendall. And besides, d-don't forget that…Carlos loves to exaggerate, too." He sighed to himself. Kendall was hard to convince whenever he was angry, he knew, so he absolutely hoped his little speech had worked.

"Fine."

"_Fine?_"

"We can discuss this later, James."

"_Later?_" Kendall was about to turn his back on him before James grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around, giving the blonde a piercing stare. His face softened. "Can't you let this go?"

"I can't," answered Kendall determinately, marginally enraged at how naïve his friend was being.

"You can't," repeated James plainly. He sighed for the second time. "Okay, look at it this way. If you get angry and start beating up Logan, Carlos'll freak out, your mo–"

"My mom?" Kendall's eyes went slightly wide, gaining realization. "We can't tell her anything," he said fast and sternly.

James gave him a curious look. "Why not? She practically knows everything–"

"Not _this_," included Kendall.

"'_This_' did not _happen_," insisted James, waving his hands in a flat circle motion to make a point.

Feeling he was getting nowhere, Kendall sighed and concluded, "If it makes you feel better I won't hurt him. I'll talk to Logan…alone…when things settle down." He was going to handle this maturely, he decided, whether he liked or not. "So for now we're gonna go home. I'll go find Logan and you go get Carlos."

James was stunned. He was about to start another argument, but stopped himself when he saw the warning look on Kendall's face. So he followed orders silently; nodding, he quickly ran past the blonde. It didn't take long to find Carlos, who was outside the building, sitting on the steps, right at the place where he'd previously fallen and passed out. Opening the door silently, James poked his head out and eyed the unmoving raven. He didn't want to startle him, so he walked out with nimble steps and gently put a hand on Carlos' shoulder. Lamentably, Carlos abruptly turned around, trembling from the sudden feeling of being unintentionally spooked. Seeing this, James pulled his hand away, sensing Carlos' nervousness.

After a few more seconds of recovery, the raven stood up, a tedious expression on his face as he dusted invisible particles from his pants. Watching this, an erratic instinct chilled within James, crawling slothfully up and down his spine; as a result, he threw his arm forward, fingers gently encircling Carlos' arm. He then looked at him right in the eye, having no typical reason as to why. Carlos' pupils moved up to match and lock with his, lips pursing into a plump, straight line.

"Are you okay?" That was the third time he'd asked Carlos that today.

Carlos looked at him, bushy eyebrows still. The tears James saw for only a millisecond when Carlos had ran out of Gustavo's office were gone. There was no dejection on his face—not even hidden. "Are you always this nice?" whispered the Latino, almost hesitantly, staring down at the hand that was clutching his arm.

James was taken aback. He felt flattered, cheeks going hot. "U-uh…sometimes?" Then, suspecting the small boy was trying to change the conversation, he said, "You didn't answer my question."

And Carlos never did. Instead, he slid his arm from the brunette's grip, and then curled his fingers, intertwining his with James'. Regarding that unexpected action, James' whole face went mildly hot—because it wasn't any ordinary hand hold, he presumed and felt as Carlos' palm pressed against his. He wanted to ask why, know the intention of the raven's odd move, but he settled on awkwardly comforting him with the trifling act of hand holding.

"It's not a big deal," thought James apprehensively. "Not a big deal," he echoed in his mind. He knew Carlos was weird, but he also meant mind echoes for the other recent problem that Kendall had come up with. The one that absolutely did _not_ exist.

He watched Carlos tentatively with hot cheeks, who was looking at the ground with a listless expression.

In the meantime, inside, Kendall was steadily forcing himself to push the door of the restroom he thought Logan would be in. Inhaling a deep gulp of air, he nudged open the door a bit until there was a small space where he could fit and enter swiftly. He then let out the breath as silent as possible; he didn't want to give away his presence. There he found three sinks, mirrors, four stalls, a giant set of white and black patterned squares under his shoes that made up the floor, and white walls that held a bit of grime on their surface. Walking slowly, he stared down, surveying each stall. Once he reached the last stall, he spotted still feet with unfamiliar shoes.

Knocking on the door, Kendall repeated Logan's name with a low volume at least four times until he got a grumbling response. Relieved, yet still feeling partially restless, he begged for the brunette to come out. But it took more than that to get him to even exit the _stall_. For every plead that Kendall delivered, Logan returned an irritated bark to be left alone. Half afraid currently, Kendall decided on something else, taking matters to a semi-drastic level; he pounded on the door—not too hard, though—and uttered the word 'please' a few times. There was something about this moment that scared him; maybe because of the answers he was getting, or the unrealistic thoughts that continued to linger strongly in his mind.

"Logan, please… Can you come out…?" mumbled the blonde, worn out. "Don't make me come in there…" In reality, he really didn't want to.

He heard the scratchy squeak of metal grinding against metal. He took a step back and watched as the pale boy came out.

As soon as they both exited the building, their eyes spotted James and Carlos. Logan didn't say anything when he saw their hands linked together. Nevertheless, Kendall knew he had to call his mother—and _fast_ before any further tensions were made.

**ooo**

A dark space surrounded him, trapped him like a puppy in a miniature kennel. Small, colourful spheres were hovering above him. Each bead held an animated picture with either voices or music. They seemed to gather in a perfect circle now, its shape compacting with each passing second. Each one was mocking him. The images in them became blurry, yet the noise gained volume, each bead louder than the last. It was then that Carlos woke up and sprang up from the bed he'd been directed to when they'd arrived 'home'. Fat droplets of cold sweat were shaping on his forehead, slowly dribbling down his sweltering face, as he put his hand over his mouth and searched for a particular door that looked as if it held a toilet.

It was hard to see in the dark, but there was a shadowed white door by a corner, just waiting eagerly to be opened. He ran to it, and inside found the toilet waiting, too. But it wasn't going to be too eager afterwards. Not bothering to turn on the light, the raven fell on his knees, jeans preventing the cold of the floor from penetrating his skin since he was still wearing his day clothes. Hastily, he opened the lid with one hand, and held the side of the toilet with the other. Unfortunately, once he started spewing his contents down the toilet, the lid hadn't been given a good balance, and so it shook one to three times before it unexpectedly landed on Carlos' head, its bulky weight making him yelp out loud.

He breathed heavily, upchucked more, but didn't have the strength to lift the burden from his head; so he left it there, enclosing his vision in a sinister darkness. The smell was invigorating, though not in a good way. Suddenly, the darkness on his face went dim, whereas the bathroom went bright with white light. Footsteps behind him were rapid. The lid was lifted. Feeling weak, Carlos refused to look up and acknowledge his helper. He trembled a bit when strong fingers curled on his shoulder, and it made some feelings rush in like a fast-traveling stream.

Intimidated, Carlos' lips parted gradually. "L-Logan…?" It wasn't a question; it sounded more as if he was apologizing for something.

"No, it's me, stupid," came the joking reply.

Hearing those words, Carlos turned a light red. Blinking tiredly, he flushed the toilet, then reached his hand out and grabbed a nearby towel, wiping his mouth with it. He stood up, staggering a bit, and slowly turned on his bare heels until he was facing James.

"What? You thought you'd get a little somethin' somethin' at three in the morning?" And though this was said to taunt the raven, Carlos stayed quiet. Seeing this, James spoke again. "Sorry," he apologized, looking sheepish.

Right after that was said, a throbbing headache suddenly pounded in Carlos' head as the same blurry images unfolded in his mind. He yelped again, followed by a loud grunt.

"Seriously, are you sure you aren't feeling sick?" whispered James, scooting closer to the small boy. He was tired of asking the same question, but he never got a straight answer; it was either a false statement or nothing. Frankly, it mentally disturbed him to think that maybe Kendall had been right after all, and it was Logan's fault that Carlos was acting like this. He quickly dismissed the accusation, attempting to stay positive.

James suddenly felt Carlos' body start to shiver—shivering profusely as if he'd been buried under a pile of thick snow. Biting his lip nervously, the brunette pressed a hand to Carlos' forehead. Maybe it wasn't the brightest of ideas, but it caused for the raven's trembles to slow a beat down. James gulped, and took the hand away, resting it on Carlos' back. He began to rub small circles on it as he spoke softly, "I'll be glad to get you some medicine…"

"I-I'm not sick…"

"But you're co–"

"_I'm not sick_," protested Carlos, the discomfort on his face contradicting his words.

"Then–" James sighed and jerked himself away, briefly biting his knuckles. "What are you– Dammit, Carlos! I'm not good at this, okay?" he cried. "It's three in the morning, I'm really tired—I _need_ my sleep, and I'm trying to help you, but you won't let me!" The manner in which he was saying all this sounded childish, but it was true. So far, Logan's behaviour was erratic, Kendall was claiming things he wasn't sure of, and now Carlos was driving him away when he was at his highest caring point; all of this mashed together in James' brain, and it made him feel as if he was in a Spanish soap opera.

"You don't need to help me. Just go to sleep," said Carlos, trying to appear convincing; but that wasn't going to trick James.

He started walking towards the door, wanting to bury himself underneath comfortable sheets, but his old sense of horrible direction still sat within him, and so he tripped—tripped on _James_, that is, bringing both of them to the cool, bathroom floor. A fierce blush stained his cheeks, indistinguishable apologetic words forming on his stuttering tongue and coming out of his mouth.

James groaned, wincing at the pain that began to skip in heavy, expeditious beats on the back of his head. Once the pain sank, he let out a soft laugh, causing for Carlos' sorry sentences to fade. "It's okay, I'm fine," said James quietly. The corners of his lips were about to turn up to form a weary smile, but seeing the raven's face, they turned down instead. A concerned frown was on the brunette's lips as he spoke, "Why are you blushing?" It was normal for Carlos to fall then land almost every time on a person, but a blush was uncommon. He figured the raven would've stood up by now, and run away before he was playfully yelled at. In effect, James thought too hard about this that it made a blush creep up _his_ cheeks.

Carlos was still on top of him, apologizing slowly now. Though when he saw the red stains paint the tall boy's face, he switched his tongue to something else, "Why…are _you_ blushing?" There was something right now that was different. He felt nervous, yet also _familiar_.

"Are you gonna get off me, or not?" said James abruptly.

"Oh. S-sorry…"

The raven stood up clumsily and was about to walk briskly back into the bedroom before James stopped him, "Hey." The tall boy was still on the floor, but he was on a sitting position now. He was looking at the raven, face still coloured a light crimson, with an enervated smile and raised eyebrows. "Sure you're fine?"

"I'm…" Carlos paused. "Yes," he answered softly.

James stood up, "Alright. I believe you. For now."

The light of the bathroom was turned off, crystal darkness enveloping them and their eyes as if it was the start of a regular sweet dream. Through the black shadows, James guided the smaller boy into their bedroom, having his hands on Carlos' shoulders. And as soon as he was left by his bed, something warm gushed inside Carlos' chest, filling him up.

"Goodnight, Carlitos," he heard James say; that guy he'd heard of when he had been solely alone with Logan over there. And though he'd only known him in person for only a day (at least that's what the raven thought in his amnesic head) he felt strangely tied to him. It was a pleasant, altered version than what he was used to with Logan.

The warm feeling clung longer than expected. "Um, goodnight," he murmured.

That night, Carlos slept a bit better.

**ooo**

"Wake up, already…"

He was being shaken on the shoulder, his name being called simultaneously. With each shake and call, his irritation grew.

"Logan, wake up!"

"What!"

Startled by his friend's shout, Kendall backed away on instinct and settled on his bed, sighing, unsatisfied. "Never mind." Logan was staring at him with an outlandish frown that didn't match him, pale cheeks now red from morning frustration. The look on him made Kendall's mind change briefly, feeling sorry for thinking such an immoral thing about him. But as soon as it came, it was gone in a flash, and replaced by unwanted flashbacks from yesterday.

Taking a deep breath, Kendall decided to forget temporarily, and not make things harder than they were. "Okay, sorry I woke you up. I…just wanted to tell you we still need to get you guys' luggage out… And I figured it's better to do it in the morning…"

He attempted to smile but Logan just stared. In the end, they never did. But Kendall had retried his offer an hour later—when everyone was still sleeping. He couldn't blame them; yesterday had been an unfortunate set of events. Remarkably, the pale boy had obliged and now they were out in the parking lot, opening the trunk of Mrs. Knight's car.

"Logan!"

A high-pitched squeal resonated behind them and jumped the brunette with body and all. Kendall quickly turned around, seeing Camille bending her head, having the intention of planting little welcome back kisses on Logan's face.

"Camille… I don't think that's a good idea…" mumbled Kendall in an uneasy tone.

"Why not?" Hesitantly, she stood up, throwing a perplexed glare at the blonde. Half ignoring him, she turned around to continue, but the brunette was gone.

**ooo**

He was back in the apartment; the living room was as quiet as a mouse scurrying behind the walls. He was standing in front of the door of James and Carlos' room, hand on the door knob. But before he could open it, Logan frowned and pressed his ear against the old wood, hearing noises—noises he didn't find appealing at all. At the same time, a voice whispered angrily in his head, that same snarling voice that had spoken threateningly to him when he was in that oppressing place that smelled of antiseptic and rubber gloves. A heat suddenly burst in his stomach, and he immediately opened the door to find James and Carlos, both wide awake. The heat rapidly grew into a conflagration of malignant jealousy as he watched the intimate pair share hard, passionate kisses.

* * *

**A/N: **I bet you all Cargan lovers hate me now. -laughs maniacally-


	23. Two In One

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Big Time Rush.

**Warning:** Logan/Carlos. Implied James/Carlos. (Italics = Flashback)

**Twenty-three – Two In One**

There was no specific explanation as to _why_ it was caused, or _how_, for that matter. Any thoughts that had been there before had been abandoned. It was one of those things that were justified with some evidence, but it would still remain a huge mystery to people. So when that first second had taken place, Carlos wasn't himself anymore. He didn't know this guy; the one with delicate-looking brown hair, amazing eyes and soft skin that contained well-developed muscles underneath; the one that was somewhat willingly kissing him at this very instant. In effect, he led himself to believe that he loved him. As for James, he was gone. His conscious had vanished, and only his body, of which was currently fluttering with spontaneous desire, was there, letting the Latino's nails dig into and bruise the flushed skin of his neck.

_He woke up drowsily at the unwanted sounds of shouting next door. Carlos figured it was where Logan and his other friend…Kenneth…_Kendall, _were sent to sleep. They sounded as if they'd both woken up on the wrong side of bed. Rubbing his eyes, the events from yesterday and last night—rather, _very_ early in the morning—crashed down into his formerly blank mind, which caused for a nauseous feeling to jump around in his stomach, pressing at all his sensitive spots. He gulped, forcing it down, and kept rubbing his eyes, harder and harder until they were itching and burning, and salty tears were spilling out of his tear ducts. After he figured it was enough, he put his hands back on the bed, gripping the wrinkly blanket as he let the aches in his eyes diminish. Once the pain turned into a state of numbness, he then let the tears dry before he fully opened his eyes. They caught sight of dusty yellow light that silkily streamed from a window he hadn't noticed yesterday night. Carlos' vision took in the foreign sight, analyzing it._

_"I don't understand why they can't just shut up…" A little far away from him, James had woken up in his own bed, the energy drained out of him. The brunette ignored the fact that his hair was all over his face, sticking on his forehead and cheeks with the possible saliva he'd drooled while asleep. "Any minute now…" he said in a tiny voice, mostly to himself. After a while of listening to the indistinctive yells, they died down eventually. James sighed in relief at the following overwhelming silence. Turning his head, he saw that Carlos was looking at him, that regular tired expression the small boy got when waking up missing from view. "Did you get a goodnight's sleep?" he asked, yawning._

_Carlos' didn't answer._

_"Carlos?"_

_"Can you call me something else?" The raven had on a glassy look in his eyes, that, in truth, kind of freaked James out a little. "I'd prefer if _you_ call me Carlitos." He smiled, an only smile that was used to greatly emphasize the meaning of you._

_Sensing an extreme oddness in the small boy—and it wasn't one of Carlos' weird charms—James said the only thing that came to mind, "Yeah…whatever." He was about to stand up when Carlos interrupted him._

_"Please." It wasn't a question; it was an order._

_Sighing for the second time, James sat back down, scooting to the edge of his bed. Carlos' vacant eyes hadn't left him, so to end the eerie moment, James wagged his finger for the small boy to come. Carlos got the message and hesitantly stood up, walking towards James' bed. Without sparing another second, he sat down, too dangerously close to the tall boy. Smiling again, the raven moved a bit to make himself comfortable; the springs under the bed rippled and wobbled, making the bed move._

_Clearing his throat, James spoke up, "Okay… What's up, _Carlitos_? Boyfriend trouble?" A guilty pang struck him in the chest once he said that, but he suppressed it until it was crushed into an infinite amount of small, useless non-existing matter. Instead of answering, Carlos kept to himself, refusing to speak. "You know, if you're going to keep this weird quiet act up there's no point in talking to you. I'll just go take a shower." He waited another minute, in case the raven was making a decision on what to say, but Carlos' lips made no movement; his whole face was frozen into that creepy, blank facial expression that wouldn't give up and go away._

_James scratched his head out of anxiety, and stood up again, walking towards the bathroom. He turned on the light, pulled on the shower curtain, and began taking off his shirt, letting it drop to the floor. He was about to take off his pants before Carlos' husky voice stopped him._

_"Can I join you?"_

_James turned around and found Carlos standing by the doorway. Partly startled, he choked out, "What the heck, Carlos?"_

_"I'm dead serious," answered the raven as he walked closer towards the tall boy, leaning against the sink. That shy and afraid look he'd had last night was gone, replaced by a flirtatious one._

_"You're freakin' me out." James laughed nervously. "Look Carlos, maybe the problem is that you're all tired out 'cause you hadn't had enough sleep. Just go jump back on your bed and catch some z's, 'kay?"_

_"Will you sleep with me?"_

_"_Eh?_"_

_And if that last question wasn't enough, Carlos went and closed the space between them, stood on his tippy toes and pressed his lips to James', placing his hands against the brunette's heaving chest. He pulled away for a second, breathing hotly._

_James' eyes were wide open. "Okay, I'm pretty sure Logan wouldn't agree to th–"_

_He was cut off by another kiss. Then Carlos raised a hand and gently closed the tall boy's eyelids, deepening their kiss. Somehow, in the middle of that, they ended up back in their room, making-out against a wall as if it was the most pure thing in the world._

It felt natural, like a simple home remedy that could cure any sickness. And so, they both were not aware that the door was open. They—primarily James—weren't aware of anything or anyone.

"Carlos, what are you doing?" Logan's voice was solid and there.

It was three seconds after that comment that James immediately pulled away, common sense snapping back into place; actual thoughts began materializing in his mind all too rapidly. They were like cob webs; all the strings of thought were tangled—almost as he'd been love struck for a second there. After a while of listening to Carlos' shallow breathing, the news finally hit him. He'd kissed Carlos. Not on the cheek, not on the hand, not on the forehead, but on the place he'd kiss a boy the least. It wasn't like that time he'd kissed Kendall for blackmail to get the answers out of him, and after a few days the blonde had confessed he'd developed a tiny crush for him. It turned out in the near end that keeping Logan's secret had psychologically mutated Kendall's thoughts into his own frivolous romantic love for James. So with the small complications that had happened during that time, they'd laughed it off, forgotten it, and then let the complications resume. But this was different. There was no blackmail involved, and no secrets, above all. This was Carlos, his absolute best friend, the one who was dating his other best friend.

All that went through his mind right now was gibberish until words slowly formed, "L-Logan, I-I didn't… Oh, my God, I swear… Tell him, Carlos! Tell him it was just an accident!" James desperately turned to the raven, seeking an answer from him with begging eyes, but Carlos just stared at him.

"Why'd you stop?" Carlos looked embarrassed and helpless like a lost child in a store, which made James' situation even more agonizing. He was about to lean in, whispering, "Come on," almost whining, but Logan's dark voice prevented him before he could even brush his lips against the tall boy's.

"Carlos, I'm talking to you," growled Logan through gritted teeth.

He hadn't even acknowledged James, yet. Logan was simply directing his comments at Carlos, who had not even endorsed the fair-skinned boy's presence. He was stuck to James, momentarily, making a cute pouty face that almost won the brunette over, but hadn't since James could actually comprehend how wrong this was. The tall boy partly hoped he was in a nightmare, but that first kiss Carlos gave him had felt so real. The seconds ticked by, slow and slower as if time was threatening to stop itself. The raven was about to embrace James again, eyes lusty, but one more bark from Logan caused him to pause abruptly. He stood still for a second before he took a step back, stupefied. Blinking, he saw James in front of him, then realized he was shirtless; a dark blush spread across his cheeks.

"What…what's going on here?" he whispered, afraid to talk. Then he caught sight of Logan standing right at the entrance, brown pupils speared with soft malevolence. "Logan…" Carlos was about to question James, looking at him with those fickle eyes, but the other boy quickly turned his head, a light pink messing with his cheeks.

"I…I-I have to go," mumbled James, and he sprinted out the room. Seconds later, Carlos heard the front door shut, its closure characterized by a clumsy slam.

A shady cloud of quietude then hovered over the two remaining boys, smothering everything before it drifted off, leaving a dusty trail behind. "Why are you doing this to me?" questioned Logan. Carlos shuffled out of the room with slight reluctance, trying hard to ignore the pale boy. Despite the effort, he was yanked by the arm and pressed against the wall. "Do you hate me, Carlos…? What did _I_ ever do to _you?_"

The Latino wriggled against the taller boy's hold, barely attempting to flee. He responded quietly to Logan's first query, "I don't know what…" There came no thoughts beyond James' half-naked body. So he said nothing else, just let the tears flow when Logan mumbled something in a scratchy voice and began licking his neck, working his way up with butterfly kisses until his teeth were sinking into Carlos' bottom lip.

**ooo**

Kendall slumped against the car. Getting rid of Camille had been pretty easy, but choosing his words carefully had not been. At least, that's what he thought.

_"Where… Where did he go?" She searched frantically, eyebrows furrowed, yet she found no vague trace of Logan._

_"Camille," said Kendall, trying hard to catch the girl's attention. "He left. I'm sure he's not coming back. At all," he grumbled the last part, rolling his eyes._

_"He's not coming back?" Her eyes were wide and puppy-looking, and Kendall immediately regretted what he said._

_"I don't mean it like that," he said, voice shaky. "It's just that…" He took in a breath, and let it out in tiny, warm winds as if he was about to whistle. Running a hand through his hair, he gave a short explanation, making it as simple as possible, "Things are really complicated right now." He braced himself for the sobs or the endless rant, but what came next severely amazed him._

_Camille shrugged. "Okay. See you later, Kendall." She smiled, waved to him and walked away, vanishing inside the Palm Woods building, leaving the boy dumbfounded._

"Why so mopey looking?" Katie's voice was enough to startle Kendall out of his flashback, almost making him trip inside the trunk. She laughed and helped her brother stand upright again.

"Where did you come from?" Kendall asked; he sounded irritated, but his facial expression gave nothing away that seemed similar to either aggravation or exasperation; on the contrary, he looked pretty tired.

"What are you doing?" She tried to appear innocent, but the way she said her question gave away that she had been snooping on him.

Kendall made a face first to show he didn't approve of her actions, of which the girl didn't mind at all, and then mumbled his way into words, "Taking out suitcases…"

"Suitcases? I don't see any suitcases," she said, trying to be comical.

"They're still in the car, Katie," answered Kendall, not amused.

She nodded slowly, puckering her lips as if she was deep in thought. Then she stepped to the side and looked into the trunk, noticing the luggage. Scowling, she looked up at Kendall, pointing at the suitcases inside the trunk, "Weren't they a different co–"

"Katie, aren't you supposed to be somewhere else right now?"

"Isn't that a bit rude?" The girl crossed her arms over her chest, giving Kendall a half frown. "Someone woke up cranky today."

"I'm sorry, Katie," groaned the blonde, "It's just that… I-I have to go and take these and Logan's probably inside the apartment by now and Carlos is there and James isn't– You know what? I'll just go now."

He blindly picked up the luggage, and left his stupefied sister to close the trunk. Once inside, he hurriedly went through the first mazes of the Palm Woods hotel: barely-awake people and hallways. Next was the elevator, which was being lazy on this not-so-fine-morning. Upon arriving at his floor, Kendall scurried out of the elevator, dragging the suitcases behind him. He began sighing, glad that he made it, but that feeling rapidly wore off when he saw James, sitting with his head between his knees. Kendall could've ignored him and gone in to check in on the couple—which was the reason why he'd hurried up—but the fact that the brunette was blocking the entrance of 2J made him put down the luggage and walk towards him with deliberate steps until he was standing in front of him.

"James?" he questioned. He acknowledged the fact that his hair was still messy and his previous clothes from yesterday were still stuck to his body; all this meant that something was wrong. But was it wrong enough to not push him out of the way and hope to dear God that Logan hadn't done something drastic and Carlos wasn't crying his butt off? "Why are you out here, man? Shouldn't you be inside…barracuda-ing or something?" he said, joking to try to calm his nerves, yet he knew it wouldn't fix anything.

James lifted his head and looked up at the blonde. "No. Because I did something really, really wrong," he sounded completely disturbed, "You know, it's not like that time I kissed _you_, 'cause that was something totally else. B-but, I mean, damn, I kissed Carlos, Kendall! You're wrong, Logan's not the crazy one; Carlos is 'cause _he_ came on to _me_! I'm not gay!" He gasped. "Yesterday makes sense now. He was tempting me, that little frea–"

"You kissed _Carlos?_" said Kendall, eyes going wide. He began to laugh mockingly (almost maniacally), but then it smoothly transitioned into a quiet shout, "Why'd you do it James? Are you crazy?" His face was red now. "You better hope Logan wasn't there."

James nodded hesitantly. "H-he was… W-we were just in the bathroom and Carlos was speaking like those creepy poetic people, and then it happened! I swear, I-I couldn't stop it–"

"Stand up."

"What?" James was taken by surprise.

"I said, stand up."

"Why?"

"Do it, James. I'm not going to repeat myself."

The brunette did as he was told, but as soon as he saw Kendall's body twitch, he quickly sat back down. He said nervously, "It was just an accident, Kendall. You don't need to get worked up over it."

Kendall laughed mockingly again, this time sounding high-pitched. "James. _Logan_ saw you. You don't know what he's capable of. For all we know he could be pissed off right now and then…then…" He couldn't finish his sentence. "So I suggest that you get. Out. Of. The. Way. _Now_." His tone of voice had changed, hinting a bit of violence in it.

James shook his head fervently. Consequently, Kendall made an effort to push his friend out of the way, but they ended up strangling each other on the floor. It wouldn't have been a risky scene, except that Kendall was desperate to enter—and Jo had decided to appear out of the blue and intervene while James was straddling the blonde's hips. She cleared her throat loudly, enough to make both boys stop and look up at her, fierce blushes overcoming their sweaty faces. But before Kendall could push the brunette out of the way and explain at least a small portion of this odd picture, she shook her head sadly and left.

"Jo, wait!" Regardless of his call, she was gone seconds later. Kendall's head drooped. "This is all your fault."

"_Me?_"

"I'm going to give you five seconds before I kill you."

Kendall had been provoked, and when James turned around and started to run, he began chasing him, full of rage, his urge to check on Carlos and Logan forgotten.

**ooo**

Soft tongues were wet with saliva as teeth clashed against each other, creating melodious _clicks _and _clacks_ that only Logan and Carlos could hear. The raven's eyelids fluttered closed; he then blinked, trying not to let the tears blur his vision. Slowly, he pried the pale boy off him. He slid against the wall with tiny steps until he was at the edge of the kitchen's entrance. Logan stared at him throughout, watching as the Latino desperately looked for something. That something turned out to be a glass. It was placed under the tap carefully, but before water could run down into the cup, Logan snatched it away and stared at Carlos coldly.

"What are you doing?"

"I-I'm thirsty," answered Carlos, refusing to acknowledge that stare.

"Carlos, is something wrong? If it's because of earlier, I forgive you. You did something wrong, but I do." He suddenly stopped, as if he'd heard something he didn't want to hear. Then he resumed, "As long as…you promise not to do it again, okay?" His voice was like dripping honey, viscous and thick, sweet enough to rot teeth until all that was left was pink, bleeding gums.

Nodding his head, Carlos stuttered out, "O-okay, Logan," not wanting to arouse the boy further.

The glass was put back on the kitchen counter, but it slipped unpredictably countless seconds after, shattering into tiny, sharp pieces. It happened so fast that it left both boys shocked and unmoving for distinct reasons. Carlos looked down, eyes fixed steadily on the broken glass. There was something about this that was suddenly nibbling at his mind, attempting to trigger something.

"Are you okay?" The fair-skinned boy stepped forward—a big mistake. A jagged edge of broken glass made its way into the heel of his foot, pressing up further until it drew blood, leaked out, and blotched the floor and other near pieces of glass. He gasped, then a painful cry pushed out of his pursed lips.

All the while, Carlos' neck had begun to perspire as his vision scanned each fragment of glass over and over again, each scene bloodier. That little nibble feeling had turned into a bug, gnawing harshly at his mind until what it had been looking for was elicited.

_The pressure was mounting, and screams were amplifying. Heavy air pinched his skin. His body was going numb. And as each window began shattering one by one, he wasn't surprised, but absolutely frightened. He ducked as fast as he could and achieved to miss a thousand shards, but one little scamp managed to stick a landing on the top of his neck, making his nerves sting. Carlos blinked, but no matter how much he did, the nightmare wasn't going to go away. This wasn't fun and games anymore, this was reality and it couldn't be avoided. All feeling in his body dissolved as he tried his hardest to move and remove the glass from his neck. It was but a tiny object, and so his neck only bled for seconds before he slumped against the bruised wall, and grabbed the edge of the opening of the broken window, mustering all his strength so he wouldn't fall out of the other large, demolished windows. A high-pitched beep then began ringing in his ears. Almost too instantly, he was brought to an undesirable sleep._

"Wake up! Jeez, not again…"

In the small apartment, everyone was awake now. Mrs. Knight was seated on the couch, treating the bloody wound on Logan's foot. She had a first aid kit beside her, and Katie was giving her the necessary objects. Kendall was sitting by the entrance door, suitcases on either side of him as he glared at the trio on the couch. Inside the kitchen, the glass and small amounts of dried blood had been cleaned up. And James was desperately trying to wake Carlos by slapping him silly on the face.

"Come _on_…"

Simultaneously, Kendall spoke out loud, voice edgy, "So how exactly did this happen?" Logan's eyes rose, returning an empty glare. "Figures," he muttered, strongly willing himself to not jump and plunge his friend to the ground while demanding answers.

"He-he's waking up!" James called out.

He expected nothing but spontaneous hard breathing, eyes popping open and quick body-jerking like last time he'd passed out; however, Carlos' awakening was the opposite of his thoughts. The raven's eyes fluttered open, then he sat there for a while before he groggily stood up and walked slowly back to his room. Three minutes later, the faint sound of shower water sprinkling against walls and porcelain floor resonated softly.

About an hour later, everyone was already clean and dressed; fresh on the outside, but still weary and irked on the inside.

As of this moment, they were all sitting down at the dining table, finishing the breakfast that Mrs. Knight had cooked. The only sound was the constant masticating of food. Katie, who was sitting next to her mother, poked her secretly on the hips with her fork; in effect, the older women almost choked. A scowl from the brown-haired girl made the mom's face scrunch up. Mrs. Knight shook her head, refusing to comply with her daughter's unspoken request. That is to say, until she received those big puppy eyes. She frowned instantly, swallowed the last of her breakfast, and smacked her fork down on the table, making the boys jump in their seats and give her perplexed looks with mouthfuls of food.

"Boys, I need to talk about something important. I'll just say it straight away, and–"

There was a knock on the door, interrupting her, and before anyone else could get it, Katie sprung out of her seat and opened it a smidge, quickly recognizing long, blonde hair. She skidded out and closed the door gently behind her. "Jo! Nice to see you… What brings _you_ here?" She made an effort to stay casual.

"Um, can I talk to Kendall? I–"

"Sorry, Kendall's not available right now. Leave a message after the beep!" Then Katie slammed the door in front of the girl's face. Skipping back to the table, she smiled as everyone stared at her. Not wasting time, Katie turned to her gaping mother and urged her to carry on.

And so Mrs. Knight continued, explained how she had called Carlos and Logan's parents out of shock. They were to arrive within a week, probably around Monday by airplane. In her mind, she partly didn't want them to come because one: they were risking themselves traveling, what with all that had happened with the spontaneous terrorist attack, and two: there was no reason to come. Although, her conscious did insist that maybe it had not been the best thing to tell a parent that their son swung the other way over a phone call. So at the same time she felt responsible for their coming. When she was finished talking, no one made a sound—and that's how the rest of the morning went.

When afternoon came, Kendall was unexpectedly kidnapped by Jo. He seemed devastated as he was dragged away. Katie had gone to conduct a scheme with Mr. Bitters. Mrs. Knight had resolved to finish her favourite Fabio-based book for the third time. Logan and Carlos had been forcibly sent to their rooms to rest by Mrs. Knight. James, on the other hand, was fed up with being alone with himself. Though he adored staring at his reflection, he just couldn't shake up the awkwardness of this whole week. So he walked out of his bathroom, got changed in his swim trunks, applied sunscreen and put on a pair of sunglasses and sandals.

"I'm going outside! At the pool!" he yelled, hoping he'd get someone's attention.

And he did—it was Mrs. Knight's, but he only waved to her unenthusiastically. "I'm leaving now…" Until he sat on a lounge chair by the pool, he'd been unaware that Carlos had been following him. "Aren't you supposed to be…"

"Hi." The small boy sat down next to him.

"Um, Carlos…"

"Carlitos."

"You're not supposed to be here," said James anxiously.

Carlos cocked his head to the side, a look of wonder on his face. "Why not?"

"Because…" James gulped. "Look, Carlos… I–"

"I told you to call me Carlitos." Carlos was staring at him, scowling and all, as if he didn't care about anything that James was saying. "And what are you talking about? I came here because I wanna be with you right now," he said.

His body was gradually inclining towards James'; but he stopped when a third voice intruded, and it made Carlos snap again like he did in the morning. He pulled back and abruptly turned around to find a tall, lean girl with long, brown hair lying smoothly over her shoulders, soft features, and a darling smile plastered on her face.

She giggled softly as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Speechless?"


	24. Puzzle

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Big Time Rush.

(Italics = Flashback)

**Twenty-four **– **Puzzle**

"You haven't talked since we came here. Please say something, Kendall. I'm getting worried…" pleaded Jo as she gently laid her hand on top of the blonde's.

They were at a restaurant, practically on a forced date. Jo had on a simple white dress that draped down an inch past her knees with a shiny, black ribbon tied around her waist, forming a nice, elegant bow on her back. Soft, pink blush was apparent on the apples of her cheeks, and her hair was tied back in a firm ponytail; some strands of golden hair that were too short were tucked behind her delicate ears. She looked decent—no, gorgeous, but Kendall didn't acknowledge that fact. He had dead ivy-green eyes that sometimes flickered brightly with some kind of worry before they faded to a dull glow. Jo would manage to catch those ephemeral sparks, attempting to find out what was hidden behind them, but failed to find the answer. A heavy load of remorse briefly cloaked her thoughts.

In her cloudy mind, she dolefully wondered if she was the one who was causing this great uneasiness within Kendall; if there was something that needed more attention than her. She knew, without question, about his and his friends' problem, which at one point she had dared to interfere when Camille and Stephanie had told her about Kendall's radio incident. It was typical for the girls to share these kinds of events—as they had the occasional intend of gossiping whenever they heard something important or engrossing. Jo had reacted quickly to the news, with Camille and Stephanie treading right behind her, for fear that something bad had happened (seeming as all three didn't know exactly what had been said, only about it happening).

Was it death? Had a loved one been injured? Or was it far worse? But that was just it. Nothing grave had happened. It was just something dealing with Logan and Carlos (although the other two girls had reacted differently to this news). She figured that right after the supposedly fake announcement Kendall's personality had changed. So now, in effect, she was attempting to find little ways to get involved with the blonde, even if it was just for a trivial minute. However, now, Kendall was dismissing her presence, her words, her _love_ entirely as his mind wandered to who knows what kind of thoughtless realm. She didn't want to admit it, but somewhere inside her mind, a part of her conscious (that she had been ignoring until now) was murmuring that he didn't need her, and he wouldn't any time soon. She pushed away the pessimistic thought, and centered her attention on tenderly squeezing Kendall's hand—muscles underneath the skin tight and tense—trying to at least get it to jerk.

Suddenly, Kendall spoke, for the first time since they had arrived, in a scratchy voice that made her jump, nearly sinking her nails into the boy's skin, "I'm sorry, Jo. I have to go. It's very important. I'm really sorry. I'll see you later—maybe." Sending her an apologetic look, he stood up from the chair opposite of her and, more to Jo's surprise, ran away. Once he disappeared out the doors and down the sidewalk, Jo sighed.

"Love you, too," she mumbled solemnly, and dusting away invisible debris from her dress, trying to hide the building sorrow and anger in her eyes. She wiped the rolling tears from her flushed cheeks, and began looking around her. Teenagers and adults were chattering and eating all around her, bright smiles or toothy grins glued on their faces. Although this was everything she saw on the outside, she had the feeling that, at least, one person in this mentally-suffocating environment full of gleeful decor was inwardly begging, _wanting_ to get out of here for some reason just like Kendall had. Jo gave out another long sigh, and shook her head, brushing off the ridiculously dumb ideas she was coming up with. Waving the menu in the air, she called out loud, "I'm ready to order."

The sidewalk was empty of all people. There was a thin blanket of dirt and pebbles covering it. Kendall was walking speedily across it; he'd rather not run, wanting to avoid any prying stares. Gulping, he squeezed his eyes shut, letting salty tears spill over his face. When he opened them, his vision had become distorted, making him stumble a bit. By the time his tears had dried, Kendall was at the entrance of the Palm Woods building. He was longing to laugh at nothing, but he couldn't cough out a sound.

Why were the innocent always corrupted?

Why couldn't it have happened to someone else?

Why? That was the only question that ran through his mind. _Why?_ He had no rock-hard answer for it. He had no evidence for it. So why had he just assumed? Why had Carlos cried? He only had one answer for that. Logan. What did Logan do to Carlos to make him cry like that? He only had one answer for that, also. Because Logan must have done something. And the only reason had screamed out loud in his mind: he'd violated Carlos. But why? Why couldn't he have thought of something else? Was it because he'd analyzed those tears too hard; he'd analyzed those dark words more than he should have; had he analyzed everything wrong?

The only one who knew the truth was Logan.

What if there was something even more corrupted behind that truth?

Standing there, Kendall didn't know what to do. He couldn't make sense of anything. His mind wandered into another thoughtless realm.

**ooo**

"Carlos, please snap out of it." After James had managed to pull Carlos out of the pool zone, they had boarded the lobby elevator, and halfway up Carlos had purposely pressed a button, causing for it to stop. Now, James was trapped in the elevator with Carlos, wondering what was going to happen next. "C'mon, dude. Just…"

Carlos was staring at him with those familiar glazed eyes, their huge, vacant roundness making them look hungry. He was in one of those trances again, figured James; and just when he was about to shake the boy silly, Carlos did snap out of it. When he blinked, his legs gave away beneath him and he crashed down. Quickly, before the boy could get up, James pressed a button, and waited impatiently for the elevator doors open. Seconds later, he was helping Carlos out by grabbing him by the arm and walking him down the hallway.

"I don't want to go back in," said Carlos in a voice so soft that the words were almost indistinct.

James looked down at him, raising his eyebrows. "You're–"

"I–"

Just as Carlos was beginning to interrupt him, the door flung open to reveal Mrs. Knight. Her eyes went wide when she saw the pair. Yanking the raven inside, she thanked James as she put him back in bed. James nodded in response. Turning around, he almost went back to the pool. Sighing, he decided to lay and watch television instead. He didn't feel like giving Stephanie an explanation as to why Carlos had kissed him. Again.

By the time the other days flew by, Monday night came; the very Monday Logan and Carlos' parents were supposed to arrive—though they never did. Tuesday morning they received a phone call saying the flight had been cancelled at the airport. And Mrs. Knight knew exactly why; because of the terrorist attack. The flights were low in number; they wanted to keep people safe until they made sure there weren't going to be any more pre-planned attacks. She smiled on the inside, but broke the news to Logan and Carlos. Oddly, they didn't seem to care. Logan had just mumbled an 'okay' and Carlos didn't answer at all.

_"Even though we couldn't make it, say to them that Carlos' parents, I and Logan's dad are proud, and not at all mad. We'll love them no matter what," said Mrs. Mitchell._

Mrs. Knight had mentioned that also, but she got the same responses. After that, she said no more, figuring that maybe they were disappointed on the inside and needed some time to recover. However, her empathetic idea was far from the truth.

It was Wednesday.

Since the start of the previous Saturday, the boys had been going to the studio. Fortunately, Gustavo had only obligated them to rehearse their vocals instead of their dancing since Logan's foot was continuing to recover slowly. And out of the blue, Carlos had started fainting—several times. Gustavo would explode when Carlos' voice would fade away and his body would collapse, taking the others with him. In effect, their recording would be ruined, and when Carlos would wake up, they would have to start over. At one point, Kelly urged the raven to go to the doctor—seeming as she was more concerned than the thick-headed Gustavo—but Logan would intercede and direct her attention elsewhere.

James would just squeeze his eyes shut, feeling his heart hammer in his chest; it was all too much for him—especially when Carlos had the tendency to want him whenever James would get awfully close; he didn't want that happening, and so he tried to distance himself whenever Carlos would fall to the floor. Kendall, on the contrary, did his best to interrupt Logan himself without trying to arouse him into a fit. Eventually, after practice, no one told Mrs. Knight about the day's incidents; no one wanted her to worry. And Katie? She was oblivious to all this, just like her mother. Although, she would notice her big brother's many faces that she hadn't seen before. They all had different faces, each one worn twice or thrice in a row. But she thought it wouldn't be good to meddle.

On the same week, the four were called on a Sunday afternoon. They were picked up by a black limo, and escorted by Freight Train into an office. Finding there was an old man that held a brilliant yet taunting grin, sitting behind a large desk. Kendall, James and Logan immediately recognized him as Griffin. Carlos stared at him as he sat down, the urges of asking his friends who he was fading; he knew he wouldn't get an answer, anyway. Logan would make sure of it. They were asked to sit down.

"Good afternoon, Big Time Rush," said the old man in a mirthful, booming voice, clasping his hands together. "You all missed me, right? I suppose you are wondering why you where brought here." They remained quiet. "Well, I just wanted you all to know that my business trip in New Jersey was wonderful! Now, for my real announcement. I was planning to have a mini-tour this summer, but Gustavo told me something went wrong in the studio, and you are all behind." He looked at the boys skeptically. "I suppose you wouldn't have anything to do with tarantulas and super glue, hm?"

"We don't know what you're talking about, Griffin," said James.

"Oh, you don't, do you?" said Griffin, his eerie grin still intact.

However, after inquiring them—mostly James and Kendall—for about forty minutes straight and getting witty answers in return, Griffin was convinced, and he sent them back home. Back in apartment 2J, Logan's foot was being treated and re-bandaged by Mrs. Knight while Carlos silently entered his room. In the parking lot remained James and Kendall.

"You're not going to stay out here all day, are you?" asked James.

Kendall sighed. "No. I just want some time to myself."

James was quiet before he answered with a soft, "Alright." And then he was gone.

Feeling worn out, Kendall returned to his room. He dropped on his bed, facing the wall. He could hear the steady breathing that came from Logan's side; the boy was asleep. For a fleeting moment, an anonymous emotion gripped Kendall, but it promptly vanished. Sitting up, he let out a loud sigh. He closed his eyes tightly for a second before opening them, seeing black spots everywhere. Subconsciously, his vision drifted to the corner of his eye, and when the black spots faded, he saw a large item. Turning around, he noticed that it was a suitcase. Kendall blinked, making sure that what he was seeing was true and not just a mirage. But the evidence was right there, slapping him hard on the face. He scowled a little and rose from the bed, walking carefully towards the suitcase's corner, making sure not to wake the resting brunette.

Kneeling on his knees, he began analyzing it. Had it not been a different colour…? Slowly, he began unzipping it, wincing at the slightest sound (though Logan seemed to be in a deep sleep). Putting it down on the floor, he unzipped the rest and flung it open. He stared at the contents in it for a while. Though he'd never paid much attention to the pale boy's wardrobe or personal items, Kendall couldn't familiarize himself with all this. The top layer looked strange; the second layer was unrecognizable; the third layer befuddled him, and the bottom layer left him brain dead. He searched the contents inside the side bags, and found nothing but a pair of sunglasses and a cap. That's when everything connected. None of these clothes belonged to Logan; not even the sunglasses or the cap.

Something was wrong. Why would he have different stuff? What if he brought the wrong suitcase? Kendall should've noticed this. He was the one who had taken it out of the trunk and rolled it all the way into this room. Not exactly _this_ room, but the living room. Had Logan taken it in when he wasn't looking? He didn't recall putting the suitcase in this corner. He didn't recall ever seeing it there when he entered the room every night and day. Had he been _this_ blind? Or had it really been there until now?

Also, what about Carlos' suitcase? What about Carlos' suitcase.

_What about Carlos' suitcase?_

What happened to it?

Before Kendall could sprint out the door and barge into James and Carlos' room, he was stopped by sounds of a blanket ruffling and bare feet stomping against the floor.

"What are you doing?"

Kendall had semi-circled when Logan spoke, leaving him to look directly at the brunette.

"I asked what you are doing." Logan's voice was a mixture of demanding, perturbed and stolid.

The blonde's jaw was slightly agape, surprised, as he stared at his emotional friend with big emerald eyes. Finally, he choked out a retaliation, "What…what is this?" It didn't sound as demanding as Logan's question. He tried again, "Who's this?" And this time, he succeeded.

"No one's," snapped Logan, "That stuff belongs to me." He said all this in a defensive tone, making him look guiltier in Kendall's eyes.

The blonde glared at him. "You better hope so, Logan. I don't wanna find out you've screwed up something else."

Logan cocked his head to the side, perplexed. "What?"

Hearing his innocent response, Kendall almost blew up. He made sure, though, to take measure of his volume and keep it low so his mother wouldn't hear, "You know what you did, okay! And you shouldn't have done that! You're lucky I haven't told my mom or your parents! Or turned you in to the police!"

Logan's voice lowered, shaking with every word, "I haven't done anything wrong. And if you think you have the right to criticize me, then think twice about yourself, Kendall." He laid back on his bed, and put the comforter over him, burying himself underneath.

The door was slammed shut. Logan heard Mrs. Knight question what was all the commotion about, but Kendall's voice was mute.

**ooo**

It was so abrupt. No one knew what to do before someone dialed nine-one-one, screaming into the phone, startling the person on the other line.

_Logan's foot had completely healed. The faints had seemed to stop abruptly within Carlos. And it was only Friday. Witnessing this, Gustavo had required dance rehearsals again. Everything was going well until Carlos asked to go to the restroom, claiming he was feeling a bit stuffy. And then it happened. Logan had—in a secretive manner—escaped out of the group and entered the bathroom, finding such a horrible picture that would forever haunt his mind. Carlos was on the floor, still like a statue. Logan whispered his name, but the raven didn't respond. His whispers soon turned into frantic shouts of the raven's name. The shouts had echoed through the hallway into the studio, causing for the others to run into the restroom. In there, they found Logan on his knees, cradling Carlos' head to his chest, tears dripping down his chin, mumbling wildly._

The ambulance arrived shortly. Kelly had been sent downstairs by Gustavo, and led the paramedics to the direction of the restroom. Once in there, they strapped Carlos onto the gurney, and put him in the ambulance. Seconds later, it drove away into the distance. After everyone exited the restroom, Kendall walked into a stall, pulling out his cell phone. He was planning to call his mother. He couldn't hide _this_ from her.

When Mrs. Knight arrived, the three boys quickly poured into the car.

"What's going on?" asked Katie from the front seat.

James, being the first one to enter, answered her dimly, "Carlos had a seizure."

After they all sat on their seats, the back door was closed, and they strapped on their seatbelts. They could hear Mrs. Knight was sobbing.

"Mom…" Kendall couldn't keep it from her anymore. "Carlos has been having accidents in the studio."

"What do you mean by 'accidents'?" she questioned between sobs.

"He's been fainting, Mrs. Knight," said James, feeling guilty he hadn't told her before. He didn't know it was going to lead to something this bad.

"Oh," she gasped. Tears streamed down her face. "My gosh, this cannot be happening."

And they continued streaming when they arrived at the hospital. They all got out of the car.

"James, aren't you coming?" asked Katie, knowing how close he was to Carlos; they were practically brothers; fraternal twins.

The tall boy shook his head, a dejected look on his face. "I'll stay here in the car."

"Keep the doors locked," said Mrs. Knight and then walked inside, with Kendall, Logan and Katie waiting for her.

Mrs. Knight asked the receptionist for Carlos' room. Once there, she found two bodyguards standing on either side of the entrance door. Seeing them—and seeming to recognize the group—one of the bodyguards opened the door for them. But before she could enter, Mrs. Knight noticed something. Someone was missing. It was Logan.

Kendall had seemed to notice, too. "Don't worry, mom, I'll go look for him," he whispered gravely. And with that, Mrs. Knight and Katie were the only ones to enter.

Kendall was slowly ascending the stairs. With every step he took, goosebumps would slither, crawl and ripple underneath his flesh; the hairs on his skin stood straight up like sharp, cold needles. A small voice kept telling him to climb up and up, even though an irrational fear was overwhelming him. He got to an abrupt stop, reaching a single door without any hallways or windows surrounding it. Reluctantly, he pushed it until there was a big-enough space for him to slip in. He stumbled when the door nearly closed on him, but managed to barely keep his balance. Kendall gasped. He was on the roof. Upon realizing this, a silky wind drifted about his face, making some hairs on his head spring out of place. The vibrating and sonorous sounds of car horns and chatting people were but mere squeaks up here. Kendall blinked. Squinting, he saw something on the far right corner. Holding his breath subconsciously, he slowly walked closer to it. He stopped on his tracks when he realized it was Logan. His knees were up to his chest; eyes were nearly bulging; his skin was paler than usual.

Suddenly, he screamed. "It's not my fault! When are you going to leave me alone!" He seemed to be leaning away; away from something. Only, there was nothing there. He was silent for a while. Then, when he spoke again, it was a whisper and Kendall had to strain his ear to able to hear. "The flight was an accident. I didn't cause it. If anything, I didn't know and I tried to protect him after. I _am_ protecting him." Another quiet moment. "I haven't failed. I love him too much to fail him." More silence. "Yes, he does; he loves me, too." More silence. "Yes, he _does_." Another pause. "He's not screwed up. He'll get through this, and he'll keep loving me no matter what." He began to whimper. "I don't want him taken away from me…"

Kendall was standing, almost afraid to move. Finding his voice, he managed to bring it out, "Who are you talking to?" demanded Kendall.

Logan ceased talking, body paralyzing.

Kendall kept probing, "What did you mean by all that?" Kendall, too absorbed in finding out why Logan was mumbling all this nonsense, blurted out, "Does that have to do with…with…" He had difficulty trying to get his words out, "With…you violating Carlos?"

Logan's head jerked towards Kendall's direction. "I-I could never do such a thing."

But Kendall didn't believe him. "Then what was that all about?" Logan stayed silent, which made the blonde angrier. "See? You're not talking!"

"What about you? You exposed Carlos and me," he said bitterly.

Kendall mustered his strength to stay calm. "I didn't expose anyone. There was this turd of a lady who recorded that. I could never do that, Logan, you know that."

"When you decided to tell James, right? You betrayed me! I hate you!"

Kendall took in a deep breath, then let it out. "I could care less if you hate me. You should learn to hate yourself by what you did. You raped Carlos, and that can never be erased."

"I never raped him!" yelled Logan. "How could you think such a foul thing? Where would you even get that idea?"

Kendall scowled. "I talked to Carlos the day you guys arrived. He sounded upset. He burst into tears, Logan."

A sudden anger went over the pale boy, astonished that his love would secretly betray him like this. "I haven't hurt him. Not one bit. You must have interpreted his words another way, since your mind is—awfully colourful."

Enraged by the boy's excuses, Kendall spurted out more accuses, "Then, h-how do you explain what's going on right now. Carlos is having a seizure in there. Surely _you_ have something to do with _that_. Because, if I recall, he was doing well before you two left."

A small sound escaped Logan's lips. He rose from the ground slowly, and stepped in front of his taller friend, glaring at him right in the eye. "You have the wrong idea. Carlos has the wrong idea. None of you know what really happened. You shouldn't get involved. You don't know what you're getting yourself into," he said in a low voice with such animosity, almost as if he were possessed. Possessed by something fearful; something horrendous; something far beyond the imagination; something Kendall—_no one_—couldn't see.

Inside the hospital, Mrs. Knight was waiting outside the door with Katie after the doctor had ordered for them to stay outside.

"What do you think's going to happen, mom?" asked Katie, looking up at her with big, scared eyes.

Her mother looked down at her, giving her a comforting smile. "Everything's going to be okay. What I don't understand is—what happened to him? Did he get hurt when I didn't notice? I remember the day when he hit his head against the front door of Gustavo's building. But it wasn't a hard hit. And when we found him passed out on the kitchen floor… I thought he was just tired from the trip, and so I didn't worry much. That's why I sent him back to bed. But after James and Kendall told me he had been fainting in the studio…multiple times… I just don't know… Why didn't they tell me?"

"Maybe they were afraid," answered Katie. "They were afraid you were going to do something impulsive just like when you called Logan and Carlos' parents because of Kendall's radio thing."

Mrs. Knight sighed sadly. "I haven't done a good job keeping up, have I?" Katie shook her head. "Well, I think it's time for a change." She put on a determined face. "Right after the doctor says we can take Carlos home—and hopefully he'll be fine—I'm enrolling this whole family in therapy."

Katie looked at her mother with raised eyebrows, eyes almost popping out of their sockets. "_Therapy?_ Mom, you're being impulsive again."

Mrs. Knight nodded. "I know. But—I…need to solve this…"

"Puzzle?"

"It definitely is one," she said quietly.

Once she said that, the doctor that had been tending to Carlos came into the hallway. He stopped a foot away from Mrs. Knight. "Has he had any accidents in the past days?"

"He's been fainting," answered Mrs. Knight.

The doctor shook his head. "Other than that? Falling off something, bumping into a wall—anything extreme?"

Mrs. Knight thought for a while. "No," she answered softly.

The doctor sighed. "From the description you gave me, I believe the boy may have had an atonic seizure."

"Atonic seizure?" questioned Mrs. Knight.

"What's that?" asked Katie.

"It happens when the person's muscles suddenly lose strength, and they fall without warning. Usually they are conscious during the seizure. If it keeps happening, I suggest he wear a helmet." He paused to let the mother take in the words.

Mrs. Knight took in a deep breath. "And…have you found the cause?"

The doctor pulled up a large paper that he had been holding in his hand. He turned it around, and showed it to Mrs. Knight. It was an x-ray of the raven's skull and brain. He cleared his throat, and spoke gravely, "He has a heavy brain injury that has been recovering since—I predict—about three or four weeks ago."


	25. Retroactive

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Big Time Rush.

**Warning:** Contains cursing. (Italics = Flashback)

**Twenty-five – Retroactive**

If it was a miracle or not, Kendall's urges of pushing Logan off the building, shoving him out a window, or even beating him up senseless had gone by undone. Despite that, the toxic fumes of his internal engine of rage continued puffing out, coating his mind with a smoky, cold-hearted passion. At the same time, the last scrap of kindness he had for his fair-skinned friend shriveled into a trivial piece of nothing in his heart. On the other side of the hospital, James' was beating expeditiously; anxiousness gnawing at every vulnerable corner. He laid his head against the window, drew his knees up to his chest, and clutched his legs tightly.

Complete silence overwhelmed him; that type of silence that made one feel uncomfortable and insecure. He listened to it, attempting to scrutinize the different types of quietude. No screams. No loud conversations. No rubbing against the seats to get a comfortable position. No fighting. No laughter. He was cut short when he felt a cramp crawl up his thigh. James immediately stretched his legs out on the seat, but that didn't help. He suddenly felt too big; as if the car was contracting, attempting to choke him with that same wave of sinister tranquility. A bright ray of light hit him at the corner of his eye, making him wince. He squirmed out of it, and while he did so, a quick flashback ran past his eyes.

Kelly yelling into the phone. Carlos being transferred into the ambulance. The vehicle driving away. But no matter how tight he closed his eyes or blanked his mind, the vivid images were still fresh and painful in his mind. James could have been by the pool right now after practice, or tanning, having a date with a pretty girl, fixing his imperfections, doing something _useful_. Instead, he was confined in a car, mentally and physically, trying to alienate himself from the current situation. Gradually, he opened his eyes; despite his effort of calming down, he felt that little sting in his eye of an oncoming tear. In result, he kept eyes open to keep the tears from spilling. He needn't to cry. Crying wouldn't solve anything, much less what his best friend was going through right now. He had to suck it up, man up, and hope for the best—but hoping wouldn't help either.

Being optimistic was hard—at least, right now.

He'd never dealt with this kind of thing before. Broken ankles and wrists, bloody noses, black eyes, bruised cheeks, even broken hearts—those types of injuries were fine; they were typical between a foursome of crazy hockey head teens. But…seizures? In James' mind, that was far from typical. It was something that he imagined happened in soap operas. Seeing it on television was one thing; actually witnessing it was in another level. A level he had not been prepared for. But he was James Diamond wasn't he? Diamond—that invincible jewel that could withstand any kind of hardship. So that meant that he should be prepared for _anything_. He should be; shouldn't he? He couldn't think straight; too many thoughts were cluttering his head.

Being rational was hard, also.

Maybe that's how Logan felt when they were in a sticky situation. Like right now. Being a sensitive guy, James could picture Logan crying his heart out for Carlos at the moment, also hoping he was fine. Or, that sounded a bit over-dramatic.

Okay. So being optimistic and rational was hard. Add empathetic to the list.

Letting out a shaky breath, he turned his head and looked out the window. He spotted a girl walking towards a bright blue car. Judging from her gleaming eyes, somewhat built stature, and the red blush on her tanned cheeks, he figured she was between the ages of sixteen and eighteen. James drew his bottom lip in, staring at the girl as she opened the door of the car that lead to the driver's seat. He would have gotten out of the car at that instant and thrown some charming moves at the girl, but something tugged at his body and glued it to the seat, preventing him from moving. He kept his eyes on her, nevertheless; but the invisible force must have caught up because a spontaneous cold wind made his eyes flutter shut. Once the black took over, it formed into that same flashback of Carlos and the ambulance, and he felt the hot tears stream down his sweaty cheeks.

James gritted his teeth, let out a groan. "Stupid Carlos," he said, keeping his eyes closed as he pressed his palms to the sides of his head. "This is all so stupid."

His eyes shot open, and he looked out the window again. The same girl was still there. Only this time, her hand was resting on the car handle, face tilted upwards, looking up with a slightly agape mouth and narrowed eyes. Eyebrows furrowing, James pressed his face against the window, but the only interesting clue he got was a blue sky that was filled with sweet heat and a few clouds. A small triangle of birds flew by. After that, he saw nothing else. Just more blue and white. The girl only continued to stare. Her eyes suddenly went wide with—fright, awe, delight? James wasn't able to tell directly. Unable to smother the curious cat in him, he made a huge effort to open the door and carefully step out, fighting the ill force that was trying to pull him back in the car. He angled his chin upwards, struggling to avoid the sun's intense, glowing rays. Out of the blue, a huge, white banner appeared in the sky, waving a steady hello, a small blimp guiding its direction. In bold, gold letters, 'MARRY ME, JOANNE?' was printed neatly on the banner.

"Aww! Isn't that sweet?" said the girl, clapping her hands together as she smiled big.

Startled by her voice, it took James a while to recover. He stared, and answered, "I guess…"

The girl nodded happily, then got in her car, a minute later driving away. James continued staring up at the sky. He imagined if Kendall, Logan and Carlos were here, it would have been different. Logan would be saying it was too ostentatious; Carlos would be jumping, and shouting how cool it was; and Kendall would be shrugging, trying to hide that eager smile that evidently suggested he maybe would think of proposing to Jo like that when he was older, wiser, and, well, more creative—and not a giant hockey head who would probably give her a pop tab as a ring. In the end, James would be the one to point out a better way on how to propose—but this time all he could have done was watch, and agree or disagree. Knowing nothing else was going to happen, he pulled on the car handle and opened the door to the back seats.

**ooo**

"Did…did I hear right?"

"I am terribly sorry," said the doctor. "We will do our best to analyze the cause, but we can't be a hundred percent sure of the outcome when we do. In the mean time, I assigned the boy a prescription that can prevent the accident from happening again. Here…" He shoved his hand in one of the pockets of his lab coat, dug out a small piece of paper, and handed it to Mrs. Knight.

Mrs. Knight flashed her eyes down at the paper, attempting to read the scraggly handwriting on it. The only words she managed to identify were what appeared to be the name of the prescription. The rest was numbers, slash signs, and some other mumbo jumbo. She looked back at the doctor's face with an incredulous expression that meant 'Are you crazy? I'm not giving this to him'.

"Don't worry, Mrs. Knight," said the doctor quickly. "It's only to keep him healthy. I guarantee you it's ninety-nine percent safe." The mother's eyes widened slightly. "I mean–" He sighed, realizing every word that was coming out of his mouth was being said in the worst possible way. "I assure you they will not harm him. He will be fine. After a full six weeks, you will return to the hospital to report his behaviour. Among that time, the analysis will probably be finished and we will discuss it with you. Okay?"

Mrs. Knight was dazed. "Katie, hold my hand, please," she whispered. The girl obliged, clutching her mother's hand. Mrs. Knight nodded at the doctor. "Okay. I understand."

The doctor nodded in return. "Carlos can leave today. He is fine as long as he wears a helmet and he is taking the tablet every day. If ever he drops his head, loses his posture, or appears abnormally tired, make sure there is something behind him to catch him; a bed, a sofa, a chair—anything that can break a fall… Also, someone must be with him at all times. That is all." The doctor's brows furrowed. "And um, are _you_ okay, Mrs. Knight? You look pale."

"I'm fine… Thank you for your information, doctor." She smiled wearily, and shook hands with him. She took one last look at the paper, frowning at it.

"So, um… Are we really going to join therapy?"

Mrs. Knight gave her daughter a tiny smile. "Family therapy, Katie. Trust me, we need it."

Katie rolled her eyes. "Right. Can't wait."

**ooo**

James woke up. It wasn't anything theatrical; just a traditional rise where he would open his eyes lazily and spend a good minute getting back to reality after he dozed from it. He had no clue what time it was, when they arrived home, or if he even was home. But the feeling under his fingers, that soft cushy feeling that only he could recognize from _his_ bed let him know that, in fact, he was home—and in his room. He remembered falling asleep in the car, and wondered momentarily how he ended up on his bed, who put him there, or if he just subconsciously crawled onto it and pulled the covers over his chin. But then the thought left abruptly when he felt something physically bothering him. He dug his hand into the back pocket of his jeans, skin immediately pressing against the familiar plastic of the teeth of his lucky comb. Curling his fingers around it, he pulled it out carefully, only to come up with half of it.

James sat still, staring at the broken item in his hand. He searched his pocket again, recovering the other missing piece seconds later. Two broken halves. What use were they now? Nothing. He couldn't half-comb his hair and let the other side stand out in a frizzy mess. That would be just like…like being a dog with only two legs. Only left with a broken image. A broken personality. Broken perfection. Biting his lip, James rose from his bed, walked into the bathroom and flipped on the switch of the light. He saw the small trashcan by the sink, empty. His hold on the two broken pieces tightened, the jagged edges at the end sharp enough to cut through his skin and draw out a dribble of cardinal blood. Swiftly, he dumped them into the trashcan, let the sink water flow, and cleaned his hands, watching as the blood slipped from his fingers, washed away by the cold water. When he was done drying his hands, he looked at himself in the mirror. No other person would notice, but James saw that his hair was infested with split ends. His mouth opened slightly, not knowing he'd been this careless. He ran his hands through it, soft and silky, let out a doleful sigh and opened the door.

James' heart nearly leaped out of his chest when he caught sight of Carlos sitting up on his bed. "C-Carlos… Sorry, did I wake you up, man?"

"What did you throw away?" asked Carlos softly, genuine curiousness on his weary face.

James bit his lip, hesitant to answer. "My…lucky comb. I broke it…by accident. I sat on it."

"Your lucky comb?" Obviously, he had no clue about the tall boy's priced possession, but James failed to see the puzzlement on Carlos' face.

"Yeah." James shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't know. It's weird. I really don't feel upset." He chuckled. "I'll just get another comb. A better one." Walking back to his bed, he looked at the digital clock, eyes reading seven twenty-five. It was early. A time that was far from the one he had assumed. Carlos was quiet on his side. James drew in a breath, recognizing that unfriendly silence that had threatened him earlier in the car. His insides twisted into stiff knots, adding to his discomfort. He ran his hand through his hair for the second time, stopping when the tips of his fingers reached the split ends. Slowly, he let them graze down until he felt nothing. He looked at the clock again. Seven twenty-six. "So bored," he groaned. He buried his hands in his face.

All of a sudden, Carlos started to snicker faintly. James threw him a look that said, 'Why the hell are you laughing?' "Pues cómo no vas a estar aburrido, si todo lo que he pasado este mes es pura…" Carlos frowned.

James had forgotten to turn off the light in the bathroom, and so he could see Carlos' slightly shadowed face get heavy with creases on its forehead. The corners of his lips were tugging downwards, eyes blinking rapidly. James opened his mouth to speak, now marginally concerned, but the raven stopped him. "Never mind," he said hollowly.

James pursed his lips. _Never mind_. Carlos wasn't fooling him. Maybe he wasn't the only one feeling trapped.

He got an idea.

"Carlos. Wanna go out?" The small boy's eyes grew wide, and James immediately waved his hands, shaking his head. "No, no! I didn't mean it that way!" He didn't, but was more worried if that would cause Carlos' chilling yet sickeningly sweet attraction for him to make a reappearance. Gladly, it didn't. "I mean, outside. We could do something. It's summer and all we've done is sing and dance…except for you and Logan's trip to Canada."

Carlos flinched at the word, remembering that day Logan reluctantly confessed to him about being in a plane crash and going to Canada, but somehow ended up in another state. He was never told why and how. He could feel a lump form in his throat, but swallowed it before it could burst out in a loud sob.

James continued, "But other than that…we haven't done anything fun."

"I don't think I'm allowed to go outside," said Carlos.

"Of course you're not. That's why we're going to sneak out." James was about to go mad with this creepy quietude following him around everywhere. He needed an excuse to get out. He didn't need one, though; no one would object. Even so, the idea that maybe Mrs. Knight was in the living room burst James' some-hope-for-sanity bubble. _How_ was he going to sneak Carlos out? Though before he could think of a plan, he needed an answer first. "So, you up for it?"

"Are you sure it's okay? I mean…" The raven's gaze dropped down to the covers of his bed, reminiscing about what had happened earlier in the day. Something he hoped not to go through ever again. He couldn't manipulate the unexpected, though. Practically everything was unexpected to him.

"We're just going to hang out, Carlos. Not like we're going bungee jumping or sky diving," assured James.

He smiled at Carlos, which the boy mimicked. Not quite a real smile yet; the corners of his lips were raised by a centimeter, giving off that he was still insecure about this innocent offer.

**ooo**

Sneaking out hadn't been very subtle as James had intended for. In his mind, the plan had been projected with a perfect amount of quickness and agility. Sadly, that wasn't the outcome that had occurred outside of his head. First, he had to make sure no one was in the living room. But oh joy, Kendall and Katie were on the couch watching television. He knew once Kendall saw Carlos he would most likely pull him back into his room. So James decided for Plan B: talk to the pair. Kendall gave him a grey look while Katie was too distracted watching the Discovery Channel when James plopped down on the couch and started talking about nonsense. And while he tried to speak louder than the people on the television, Carlos poked his head out the door of their room. When he got the signal, which was where James' voice rose as he threw his hands in the air and pointed out how cool was the axolotl in the new Discovery episode, Carlos exited the apartment without disturbing the surroundings.

Catching the movement from the corner of his eye, James emitted, "Well, I gotta go somewhere and do something, uh, important! See ya later!" Jumping from the couch, he ran for the door and closed it with an unintentional slam. Once in the hallway, he saw Carlos leaning tiredly against the wall. James pursed his lips, guilt slowly running up his spine. "Or…do you just want to go to sleep?"

Carlos' head jerked up. "N-no. I'm fine. Um, where are we going?"

James smiled wide. "I figured we could gets haircuts. I don't feel comfortable admitting it, but…I have split ends. And you, _mi amigo_, have serious shaggy hair. If you want Logan to keep liking you, you gotta keep a good image up, also."

Carlos' heart skipped a beat at the mentioning of the pale boy's name. "Whatever," he managed to rasp out.

"Also…we're going to have to go walking. 'Cause, you know…"

"We can't drive?" finished Carlos.

"Yeah…that."

"I don't mind." He really didn't. In the back of his conscious, Carlos thought he'd rather walk with this seemingly caring brunette than be stuck in bed with one who was head over freakin' heels for him.

**ooo**

He wanted to go in there and know—make absolutely sure—that he was okay. A doctor saying yes was not enough. Never enough. What was so bad about caring and loving for him? Kendall was wrong. There was nothing wrong with holding Carlos and whispering to him that he loved him, and maybe, just maybe, making love to him like he always wanted to. Hard love so he could show him that he was his, and–

"You're funny to mess with." It giggled.

Logan choked out a sob. "You're doing this," he whispered hoarsely. Quietly, he walked out of his room, and inched James and Carlos' room door open. It was dark, and no one was there. He could tell, evidently; the sounds of movement or breathing were absent from his ears. That meant that _Carlos_ was absent. No. Not right now. Holding in his breath, he closed it and made his way to the front door.

"Logan, where are you going?" It was Mrs. Knight who questioned him.

"I need to go meet someone, Mrs. Knight," he answered casually. "It's urgent. For a summer math project." Kendall shot him a glare, but he ignored it. "Please."

Mrs. Knight dismissed him with an 'Alright, have fun' and a wave of approval. "Be home before ten."

"Don't count on it," It snorted.

Logan almost gulped as he closed the door. "You're going to stay here."

"Fucker. I know you're going to go look for that bitch. Let me tell you something. You two are like magnets. You can't stick together for the sake of your fucking, messed up life. But you and I are like hydrogen and oxygen to make sweet, everlasting water. Get what I'm saying, Logan?"

"No. No, I don't. And I don't care what you say because I'm going alone." He took a step forward, looked back. There was no one.

He felt a bit secure now as he pushed the front doors to the Palm Woods, and walked out. Nonetheless, when he saw a tall, white figure behind the building, it was as if someone had applied super glue on the concrete. His breath hitched, mind running with incessant fear. In the near darkness of the night, the figure wagged a finger at him, beckoning with a terrible smile. "Why do you keep coming back? Who are you?" cried Logan. Without his approval, his feet shuffled forward, obeying the moving finger.

"Come here… That's right. Just a little closer." It smiled as Logan backed himself up against a wall, cowering like a puppy under its harmful master. It inched its face close to Logan's, licking its bottom lip. "Who am I?" It hissed. "I should ask you the same. But, since you asked first I'm going to be polite for once." And then, the terrified boy heard a laugh. One that was childish, sweet, husky; it sounded exactly like Carlos'. "I'm your worst nightmare."

The brunette rubbed the fresh tears from his eyes. Carlos was looking at him with a cocky, malicious smile, rocking on his heels, back and forth. "What…?"

Carlos scowled. "You heard me, asshole. Now that you know, I'm going to give you a little background information since I just can't hold myself back." It grinned eerily. "The story's just too juicy to let you keep playing this guessing game like a fucking idiot."

**ooo**

"I really can't believe it. And this one is better than my old one!" After their haircuts, James getting rid of his split ends and Carlos looking more like his old self than a half-hippie, the tall boy had noticed a display of combs on a shelf. They looked new and _glossy; _the absolute definition of a perfect life—well, _hair—_saver. Without thinking twice, James bought a comb, coloured a soft tan; one that gently undid the small tangles of his hair.

Carlos replied nothing to that, and James spoke no more after. They were near the Palm Woods, already spotting the large building that was just around the corner. James sighed, reminding himself that he had to get Carlos in without letting anyone find out that he had been gone. Afterwards he could get his long awaited beauty sleep and take a hot shower in the morning to get rid of the dusty hairs on his body. His thoughts were disrupted by a sudden howl slicing the once-serene night air. They both ceased walking. Turning his head to give Carlos a questioning look, James noticed the boy's face had gone ghost white, frightened by the noise.

"I'm sure it was nothing," said James, squeezing his friend's shoulder to snap him out of his shock.

Carlos' eyes shifted downwards, hands vaguely trembling. "Y-yeah," he responded almost inaudibly.

James almost put an arm around him, wanting to comfort the shaken boy, but quickly stopped himself. After a few seconds of lingering in that awkward stop, they resumed walking.

They were unaware of the shaking figure when they passed the back of the hotel building. He was on the concrete, curled into a fetal position, covering his face as if wanting to hide from a certain something.

_"I hate that little punk that you're obsessed with. But you want a reason, right? You're smart, so you do. Ask me a question, Logan. I fucking dare you."_

_Logan shook his head, almost to the point of literally breaking down._

_"Tsk, tsk, tsk. You're so quiet. Speak, dammit. I wanna hear your damn voice!" But Logan kept his mouth shut. "Fine. You won't give me an answer, but I'll still give you mine. See, here's the problem," It murmured resentfully, "You started liking that bitch. How many years ago? Oh yeah—about four. Like many starts, it used to be an innocent little crush. About, hm, a year later you started acting up. You know what I mean, right? You behaved like the regular horny teen. Jack off to your best friend when no one is looking. But you couldn't stop there. You wanted more. You were fucking greedy all of a sudden, but you couldn't tell Carlos anything. 'Oh, it could jeopardize our friendship,'" It mocked in a high-pitched, whiny voice. "Ha, ha, this is fun! I'm a great storyteller, aren't I?_

_"Anyway, guess what happened then? You created _me_. I was born in that fucked up mind of yours. This led to more. You sort of, uh—how do I phrase this nicely?—became a little too _passionate_." It laughed. "I remember that one time when you stayed over at Carlos' home. You were both on his bed and you just couldn't bear the sight of his fucking cute face facing you as he slept and you _tried _to sleep. You know what happens next." Its eyes were suddenly full of lust. "You were dripping and hard. Shameless, you jacked off right there and then. Ha! You didn't even need a picture that time! Then all your little crude thoughts came together to form a little sex scene were you handcuffed me and screwed me. You told me to say dirty things to you, so I did. When that was over, you were coming all. Over. Your. Hand."_

_"I never did that!" shouted Logan, face red._

_"Come _on_. Don't you remember that time when you two were sharing your little pizza rolls of love? You were thinking, Logan. But not about him. About me. Because I'm that little sex toy that you used instead of wrecking poor little Carlitos. I didn't mind. But that was the last time you used me. After that stupid plane crash you went fucking crazy. You were so busy worrying about that sleeping bitch that you purposely forgot me and every time you kissed these lips. You suppressed everything about me. You _abandoned _me. And I fucking hate you for doing that to me. Remember that little girl? That was me. It's called a hallucination, Logan. You paid attention, but that was still not enough to satisfy me. I tried many things when we were at that hospital. Blaming you, making you feel guilty, anything that would make you forget about that bitch and take _me_ instead. So far, nothing has worked. So, here's a simple summary for you. I'm Carlos. The one that you—or should I say _used to?_—fantasize about. That little other fucker is the one you love." It glowered at Logan as it stuck its lip out. "It's not fair! _Oh_—and about _Kendall_… He's thinking about the wrong Carlos. He thinks you raped that bitch; so he's lost trust in you. That's why he's gone psycho against you. Too bad he doesn't know about me. Everything would be dandy then."_

_"You're _not _Carlos!" shrieked Logan, kicking and punching at the image before him. This monster couldn't be. Carlos could never say all those nasty things. "And you're-you're not real!"_

_"Oh, but I am, Logan." It smirked. "If I weren't, I wouldn't be able to control you. See these hands right here? These are the strings, and you are my puppet. I'm the reason why you won't tell anyone about that stupid crash. I'm the reason why you won't tell Carlos he never was in love with you in the first place. I'm the reason why you're lying and you're having Carlos lie to everyone else, also. I'm the reason for this pointless, chaotic shit. I want you to crash and burn first. I won't give up until you're ruined entirely, inside and out. Because then, you'll come crawling back to me. I'm the only one you _can_ love, not that loser. I was here first." It grinned_ _big. "Who knows? Maybe everyone else will also end up paying for what you did. _You can't get rid of me_." Then It smiled, dark and determined. "And I'll definitely make sure of it. So go ahead. Try to run away from me. But you won't get very far."_

* * *

**A/N: **Okay. I know I've been an ungrateful bastard, so I just wanted to say thankyouthankyouthankyou to everyone who has stuck with this story so far. (insertalotofcreeperheartsher e) [:


	26. Sugar Coated Illusions

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Big Time Rush.

**Twenty-six – Sugar Coated Illusions**

At midnight, the streets were deserted, except for the occasional rumble of an engine in the distance or the _tap tap_ of a person walking hastily and restlessly along the sidewalk, desperately wanting to get home before they were snatched and locked away in an inescapable darkness. The stoplights were flaunting their luminous colours; an endless, mechanical dance of green, red and yellow. A car sped by; a black jeep that had thick, red stripes neatly painted on the bottom sides of it. Its windows were tainted black, preventing anyone from looking in and spying for anything that was of great value. The car's owner drove around for about fifteen minutes, turning left, right, going straight. A pitchy bell rang, two twin echoes following. The driver picked up a cell phone, curiously ran his thumb over the 'Answer' button, and reluctantly pressed it. Words were muttered hurriedly from the other line, whereas the driver kept silent—listening intently—nodded to himself, and responded with a low 'Okay'.

Once the other line went dead, the jeep swerved, almost hit a car, and started towards a new destination. A single curse word spilled from a pair of shadowed lips, dirty and venomous. Another set of fifteen minutes later, the jeep pulled up into a private parking lot. The driver came out; he had the common appearance of a wild teenager—but his walk, the way his mouth curled down into a dry grimace, gave away that he was much older. He went through a double door entrance, took a short elevator ride, walked down a long hallway; at the end of it, there was an office without a door. Though hinges were still clasped to the mahogany-coloured door frame; he figured there was some sort of 'modern' construction being done. He entered the office with fictitious calmness. An old man was sitting behind a desk; unruly yet smart, bald with a few grey hairs scattered about his sun-spotted head, staring hard at a bright monitor screen.

"Mr. Duval?" The young man sat down on a black leather chair.

"Arthur."

"Yes, sir?" he questioned. The penetrating glint in the old man's blue eyes made shivers run up and down his spine, swimming with such speed that it almost made his entire back numb. Arthur sat there, with pressed lips, a short shag of brown hair scarcely covering his solicitous eyes. He swiped his tongue against the roof of his mouth, impatiently waiting for an answer. Fingernails dug nervously into thick leather. Hiding wasn't going to be easy. Not anymore.

Wrinkled fingertips tapped against each other soundlessly as a frown stretched on Mr. Duval's lips. "Arthur, do you remember that plane crash a month ago—the one in Idaho?"

"Yes, sir. What about it?" He scrunched his eyebrows, faked a worried expression. "Did the criminals escape?"

"No. They were put in federal prison. However, we recently met another problem. They confessed to have stolen ten thousand dollars from a major company one of them had previously worked for, but they refused to tell us where it was…which led us to examine the whereabouts. Two bank accounts were found. It took a while, but we confirmed them. One had eight-hundred, the other the rest, a total of nine-thousand two-hundred dollars. However, five-hundred dollars were taken out of the first account; specifically, in the days after the crash."

"Alrigh'. I get. Mind tellin' me why I'm here, then?"

Mr. Duval nodded. "We identified all the passengers that survived. Presently, out of all of them, there are ten suspects. We assume that the guilty one, most likely the guilty _ones_, are relevant to the, uh, assailants, in some way, and that there was probably some reason why they stole the five-hundred. Say, a type of distraction to take the eyes away from the bigger project, whatever it is. I am not entirely sure yet. Up until this point, we haven't found out why they attacked the plane, or what they were going to use the money for. I'm assigning you an important role in this case. I want you to interview all ten. This means you will have to travel a lot."

Arthur drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair. He asked, in a careful tone, "List, please?"

"Surely." Mr. Duval turned his monitor, showed the screen to the young man. Two boys, smiling, were on it. One had short raven hair, caramel skin, brown eyes; the other one had short brown hair, pale skin and brown eyes also. They looked happy and innocent in the picture; a pair of joyful teenage boys. But the old man was serious, glaring at Arthur then at the image of the happy teens. "These are our first two suspects—the primary ones. Logan Mitchell and Carlos Garcia. They belong to a boy band called Big Time Rush. They currently live in a hotel called the Palm Woods. We talked to the captain of the airplane, who, gratefully, survived, and he mentioned about a boy—the one with black hair, I presume, from the description he gave—randomly popping up in the cockpit. Because of him, the plane malfunctioned right when the captain had finally gotten everything under control. As a result, the crash happened. The other boy, Logan, is a friend, so there is a ninety-nine percent chance that he was somehow involved in this 'accidental appearance'. Now, to finish this conversation nice and easy, your first stop will be in Los Angeles, California."

Arthur smiled, leaned back in the chair. "It'll be my pleasure, Mr. Duval." Gradually, his nerves settled down. He was heavily thankful that the stupid old man had not seen through his false mask. "Logan Mitchell and Carlos Garcia." He chuckled. "Pretty names for pretty pop teens. Funny. You can't trust anyone nowadays, eh?"

**ooo**

Logan was in the bathroom, slowly brushing his teeth with the new toothbrush he had bought during the…'vacation'. With every brush stroke he tasted the harsh mint of the toothpaste mixed together with the bitter aftertaste of vomit. He was facing the wall opposite of the mirror, avoiding his reflection for fear that it might lunge at him. If not for that, It would unquestionably get the opportunity that it wanted; to steer him into a further state of psychological instability that eventually would lead to an emotionless death. He didn't want that. He wanted to stay here—with _Carlos_. Not that deranged hallucination. The love he felt for the Latino boy, it could never be broken. It was like a long, metal chain: hard and sturdy—yet rusty. He felt nothing for that thing; the feelings were completely surreal.

He recalled that haunting sentence, _"You purposely forgot me."_

"And that's what I'm going to do again," said Logan shakily. "I don't want you anymore. I never did. I don't care what you are, or who you are. If you're me, or– Or– I–" He stopped short, not knowing what else to say; every other vibration in his vocal cords had dissolved.

He rinsed his mouth, washed the bristles of the toothbrush and set it back on the countertop. Gripping the edge of the counter, he puffed out a breath, aiming to relax himself—ignore everything. His edgy mediation was broken when a familiar voice spoke, making the hairs on his neck stand straight up. His toes curled into the floor as his hold on the counter tightened, knuckles losing their colour.

"I already told you, you can't get rid of me. When will you learn? Turn around, Logan. I wanna see your face when I'm talking to you, not your back. It's fucking rude." Heart palpitating irregularly, Logan surrendered and did as he was told. Big, brown eyes were glaring up at him. "You try to end me, and I'll end you first." Its face softened. "I really want to stop hurting you. I wish I could, but you fucking deserve it. Every. Single. Thing I'm doing to you. But you know what will make it better?" Smiling naughtily, It pressed its body against Logan's, causing for the pale boy's back to bump against the counter. Logan's oxygen had seemed to vanish from his lungs. "Come on, breathe," It whispered sweetly, gently slapping the frightened boy on the cheek. "I don't want you dead when you're apologizing to me." Lowering its lashes, It stared down at Logan's shirt as it pinched the bottom hem and began twirling the thin fabric around its index finger. "I am so much better than that bitch you 'love'. When you try to kiss him he rejects you. Pretty much when you want to touch him in any way.

"What's funny is that he's such a whore for your friend, James. You know—the tall, tan and handsome one?" It said sarcastically, raising its brown, round eyes to look at Logan and half smile at him. "Remember that _awful_ time when you caught them kissing? Or should I say violating each other's mouths? Because that's practically what they were doing." It snorted. "Didn't it break your poor little heart knowing that he had been so willing with James but not with you? I know _I_ got angry because you still forgave him after. I don't know what's wrong with him, but I would never do that to you. Know why? I'm not a backstabbing, cheating bitch. I belong to you, and only you. You don't have to waste yourself on him. That's why _I'm_ here. To please you; to let you love without any damn complications. Besides, it's not like you'll be in an unrequited relationship with me. I love you, too." Logan whined painfully at those three words; despite the interruption, It didn't seem to notice. "Now, I'll give you a fairly easy choice. Ignore me like you've been doing," It brushed its lips against Logan's, "or fuck me… 'Cause I know you really want to."

Logan froze, momentarily unaware that his subconscious was contemplating the words that had just been spoken. An abrupt wave of energy hit him, sluggishly coursed through his body. He was suddenly hungry, selfishly craving for some kind of obscene pleasure; he needn't to wait, though. It was right there, in front of him, awaiting eagerly for his first move. Without reconsidering his thoughts, he pounced and, with the brutality of a frenzied, wild animal, tore the clothes off the willing body before him, hissing every time when his fingertips briefly made contact with the soft skin. At that instant, staring at that beautiful, caramel skin, Logan couldn't help but kiss It; each kiss was deeper than the last, raunchier than the last, more destructive than the last. He almost regretted doing this, an alarm in his brain going off; but it died down, drowned by the defiled emotion that had been mindlessly labeled as 'love'. The skin was warm—hot in fact, extremely. Lips were like gummy bears, soft and sweet. Licking his lips, Logan slid his fingers down the heaving chest until they were grazing the exposed length. He stopped, not knowing what to do for a second there. He resumed immediately, however, as if he'd paused so someone could take a still picture of what was taking place, in hope that one day it might prove something, but it really wouldn't.

"Seriously, Logan, fuck me already," It rasped. "I'm not going to wait any longer. Patience is not really my thing. You used to be so good to me…"

Listening to that husky voice, filled with greediness, Logan felt another wave, another rush; a rush that let him know that something had changed. Instead of that monster, he now saw Carlos—the _real_ Carlos—in his eyes. Bare, flushed red with a thin blanket of glowing sweat draped over his body, begging and _vulnerable_. A candle within him flared up, an orange fire of horrid lust. Then, those taunting moments when it was his turn to strip naked and kiss Carlos all over as he caressed and fucked the small boy's virgin hole with his fingers passed all too quickly before he was buried deep inside him. He was hot and tight, and his waist was perfectly curved that Logan could put his hands there and hold on to him as he screwed him senseless. He just couldn't believe it, _refused_ to believe this was real, but—Carlos was right _here_. Breathing in little pants, clawing his fingernails into the fair-skinned boy's back, eyes lidded, wanting _more_. Suddenly, the brunette was empty-handed. Carlos was smiling, crouching down at Logan's level. He was no longer exposed, but fully clothed. Logan started sobbing. He was paralyzed, unable to reach out to Carlos and feel him, touch his cheek, kiss him; he never had the opportunity to relish in the angelic expression that would've come across his beloved's face as their lovemaking peaked its ending.

But he was no longer there. A shadow stood where Carlos had once been, starting to move. Gradual steps were taken, creating reverberations that lightly bounced off the floor. From the corner of his eye, Logan spotted a smug smile.

It hissed in his ear, "_Not_ until I'm finished with you."

The scene before him blurred, colours smudging together as if someone had aimlessly thrown wet paints onto a canvas. An invisible fist smacked his temple, made his vision go black for a second. When he regained it, he was back, tucked behind the Palm Woods building, curled up on the concrete. The moon had departed from the sky, and the pitch blackness of the night had been revamped into a lovely mix of yellow and white sunshine.

A mocking whisper hit him from somewhere, "Enjoy your dream?"

**ooo**

"Kendall, I'm hungry. Make me breakfast, please?"

Kendall awoke to the sight of Katie pouting, eyes bigger than a loris'. "M'tired…" he mumbled, getting comfortable again on the sofa. Last night he'd fallen asleep there with Katie halfway through a marathon of old cartoons. "Later…"

"But mom hasn't woken up, no one is, and you're the only one I see with his eyes open. My stomach hurts, big brother!"

"You know, Katie, there are a lot of things more important than your empty stomach!" snapped Kendall angrily.

Startled, Katie took a step back. "Fine," she muttered, shoulders slumping. "I'll go make my own breakfast."

Guilt immediately washed over the blonde as he watched his hunched baby sister walk towards the kitchen. "Katie, wait… I'm-I'm sorry… I didn't mean to blow up on you like that. It's just… It's been stressful lately… And what happened yesterday…" He trailed off, hard for him to say any more. He perked up a bit. "So, um, what do you want for breakfast?"

He rose from the couch, attempting to forget all the bad things that were going on; even if it was just while he was cooking his sister breakfast. Verbally lashing out at her like that—it was unacceptable. Anger usually led to violence. Kendall shuddered at the gruesome thought of hitting Katie, with a fist so impulsive yet willing, controlled by pure, raw anger.

"Kendall? Hello?"

"Huh? Oh! Breakfast!" He entered the kitchen where Katie was waiting for him, and opened the fridge. "What do you want, sis?" The second he turned around he noticed that she was holding a box of pancake mix. Kendall groaned. "Anything but that."

"Why not?" Katie stuck her bottom lip out as she set the box on the kitchen counter.

"Unless you like burnt pancakes, you might want to request something else," said Kendall.

Katie sighed. "Eggs and toast, please."

"Scrambled or sunny side up?"

"Scrambled. No butter on the toast; I want jelly."

"Got it. Scrambled eggs and jellied toast coming right up!" He took out four eggs, figuring he might as well eat breakfast, too.

Katie watched her big brother carefully. She took in a deep breath, let it out, and then let the words run quickly out of her mouth, "Kendall, mom wants to take us to therapy."

In a flash, all four eggs dropped from the blonde's hands. Egg whites, yolks and shells showered the floor, painting abstract pieces on the previously clean tiles. "_Therapy?_" Intense perplexity clouded his mind, the word spoken as if he didn't know the meaning of it. When the feeling dimmed down, he grimaced at the mess he made. Ripping out a bunch of paper towels, he soaked half of them in hot water.

Katie explained in a wavering voice just as her brother began to clean up, "She said we need family therapy. She thinks we don't 'communicate' enough. But I don't wanna go! The therapist will probably diagnose us as a bunch of crazy people, and we'll all be sent to a mental institution!"

"Relax, Katie," said Kendall, struggling to sound as calm as possible; he was still in the state of shock, after all. "No one is going to end up in a mental institution." He paused, chewed on the inside of his cheek. "If mom…wants us all to go to therapy…then, we'll do." He said all this so slowly so as not to accidentally say the wrong thing. "I bet the only thing the therapist is going to do is show us those weird ink blots—like the ones on TV shows, where you have to say what you see—so he can 'analyze' us. That's all." He rolled his eyes in sarcastic amusement as Katie agreed, and sat down at the dining table with a calmer aura.

In contrast, Kendall hadn't relaxed at all as he took out another set of four eggs. He could picture it clearly: all of them gathered in a circle inside an office, surrounded by beige walls, white flowers in crystal clear pots sitting at all four corners, and framed certificates plastered on the walls. Everything would begin as an ordinary session, but when the therapist would speak up and urge, that's when the fireworks would start. They'd all be history. And right after, Sir Crazy would definitely come to visit.

Actually, it felt as if everything had gone crazy recently; heck, _nuts_ to add emphasis. And it actually scared him. Not the type of fear that one would get during Halloween or while telling amateur scary stories, but an actual ominous feeling; it was sitting on his shoulders, a hefty weight, invisible lips to his ear whispering deadly hints, letting him know that more stuff like this was going to happen—except, he didn't know when, where or _what_. That's the part that made him uneasy, made him want to crawl under his bed and hide until it was all over.

Just as he finished fixing up breakfast, placing two plates full of food on the table, a gust of wind hit him when the front door opened and slammed shut, causing for the table to wobble slightly, moving the two pieces of toast on Katie's plate out of place.

Katie was the first one to speak, "_Whoa_. What happened to _you?_"

A thin layer of soot coated Logan's right cheek, forehead, and chin. His eyes were stained red; clothes were mildly tattered at the ends and covered in dirt. He looked absolutely fatigued, yet any emotion that could have been detected a second ago was gone. At the sight of him, Kendall's stomach flipped. He silently decided to exit the living room before he committed something he would regret later. Breakfast was forgotten. He lightly knocked on the worn-out wood of his mother's door. A weary 'Come in' responded. He rattled the doorknob, opened the door with a heavy creak, stepped inside, and closed the door softly behind him. Mrs. Knight was on her bed, a hand to her forehead. Kendall bit his lip, and hesitantly sat on the edge of his mother's bed.

"Mornin', mom" he said quietly, giving her the faintest smile.

"Good morning, honey."

"You okay?"

"Just tired," she answered solemnly.

'_Just tired_'. As in, 'Morning? _Morning?_ Do you actually think this a _good morning?_'

"Don't worry, mom," said Kendall abruptly. "Carlos is going to be fine, okay?" More lies. He felt even sicker. _Fine?_ Ha. She didn't even know the half of it. Kendall cringed subtly.

"It's not just that, Kendall," said Mrs. Knight in a subdued voice, knowing exactly where this conversation was going. Her face went grave, revealing all that distress she had been hiding all this time. Kendall regarded the bags under her eyes, hinting that she hadn't had any sleep last night; maybe just two or three hours, but that was it. "I'm worried that you boys aren't telling me everything."

The blonde's eyes went wide. "W-what do you mean?"

"You've all become…I'm not sure. I notice things that are different. Your personalities have changed… Do you understand me, Kendall?"

"What are you talking about, mom?" He knew exactly what, but it didn't stop him from asking the question between gritted teeth.

"I've decided that, starting today, we are going to join family therapy."

It didn't shock him as much as it should have since he'd already had this conversation with Katie. He attempted to keep his temper down, though, but it ended up pushing through without any difficulty, like a poignant knife cutting through a frail stick of butter, slicing it up into miniature, insignificant cubes that would soon melt. Kendall couldn't help but feel extremely bothered. He suddenly felt like a little kid, one that had no right to his own life because he was too young, too naive. He scowled childishly, frowned at his mother.

"We don't need therapy."

"Kendall–"

"It's stupid. I don't wanna end up in a nut house!" He stood up, face tomato-red. "If you want to know something, why don't you just ask us like a normal mother? Boys will be boys!" He laughed uncomfortably. "We're just a bunch of stupid teens that will do something one day, and we won't want to tell you. Why? Because that's how we _are_. We're supposed to act weird and suspicious, right? _Right?_"

Mrs. Knight blinked, spooked. "Honey, you're not making any sense."

"Nothing makes sense anymore, mom. Nothing!"

**ooo**

Oddly enough, Kendall had been correct about the room's layout. The walls were painted light beige. Only two plant pots were in the room; one in the northwest corner, and the other in the northeast. He learned, upon entering the building, that their new therapist's name was Jenny Hughes. Apparently, Mrs. Knight had heard good things about her, and she'd called, well, somewhat threatened Gustavo last night to let the boys have a day off since he wouldn't agree at first. They were currently working on a schedule between practice and this whole new therapy thing. None of the boys liked it.

"Mrs. Knight?" The therapist had a rough, mature voice.

"Yes?"

"I think it would be best if I spoke to all of you individually. Then, at the end, we can all get together for a brief closure. But, this will only be for today and tomorrow, just to get to know you all. After those two days, we will start fresh as a group. Is that alright with everyone?" They all nodded feebly. "Perfect. Who wants to volunteer to be first?"

Kendall ended up being picked since no one would take initiative. He'd been in there ten minutes now. Outside of Ms. Hughes' office there were two sofas that were wide enough to fit four people, and one loveseat. Mrs. Knight was resting on one of the sofas, a sleeping Katie in her lap. James was lazily stretched out on the other, face planted in a throw pillow, mumbling loudly to himself about how he 'wasn't crazy,' and he 'wasn't supposed to be here'.

"Well maybe just a little… That time I– No! I'm not crazy, and that's final. Ugh, this _totally_ _sucks_," shouted James into the pillow. He resumed mumbling and groaning incomprehensible things from then on.

Logan, on the other hand, was sitting quietly on the loveseat, vision glued to a specific picture. Two large windows showed off two different settings: one had the front parking lot and the streets beyond it, and the other had the surrounding buildings. Carlos was standing, staring out the window with the half empty parking lot. Logan watched him keenly. From time to time, he would switch from Carlos to the window; it appeared to bend inwardly, as if he was looking at an optical illusion. Nonetheless, he would get disrupted by that sweet, husky voice he loved yet hated at the same time; because he was fully cognizant that it didn't belong to Carlos, but to that—_nuisance_.

"That's not nice. You shouldn't be thinking that, Logan. Besides, you're going to go fucking mental when it's your turn. So I guess we all know who's going to be the nuisance after," It laughed. "Oh, wait; you kind of _are_ one already." It laughed louder.

Logan gulped, ignored the voice. "Carlos," he murmured under his breath, hoping the raven heard him.

The laughter ceased. "Shut up," It said angrily. "Look. He's just staring out the window like a fucking idiot. I bet if he had the chance, if you weren't here, he'd already be sucking faces with James on_ this spot_. And don't interrupt me again when I'm talking. You're being so fucking rude to me today."

Again, he tuned out the voice, concentrating hard on the window that kept on bending inwardly. A tiny, radial crack appeared out of the blue.

"Carlos." Logan's voice broke at his name. "No. Don't," he whispered hoarsely.

More radial cracks appeared, each an impending misfortune. He sat completely still now while It kept fiercely scolding him about how rudeness was a habit he better break, or _else_.

Logan's breath caught in his throat.

It hadn't even been five seconds into the twelfth minute before the window exploded, and a single word rushed out his mouth, an ear-piercing screech. "_Don't!_"


	27. The Edge

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Big Time Rush.

(Italics = Flashforward/Flashback)

**Twenty-seven – The Edge**

_On the roof of the building flew a blue bird, in a perfect circle, enjoying the soft warmth of the afternoon sun. It squawked happily, a sound that any other bird would have recognized—and many did, returning the resonant call. Curious to get to know the building more, it gracefully flew downwards and perched itself on a window's ledge. The blue bird turned its head sideways, eyes moving rapidly, immediately witnessing a quick movement. Sensing a looming threat the bird squawked one more time, and flew away._

In the midst of inconsistent behaviour, Carlos and Kendall were experiencing the same. Their bodies were motionless; one statue sitting, the other standing; one staring at a beige wall that was hidden by an extensive amount of different kinds of pictures and certificates, the other staring at a parking lot that was lacking cars, and a noisy road. As if briefly released by that innominate force that was controlling them both, Kendall opened his mouth—but the words had been uttered without a voice, all muted; at the same time, Carlos had taken in a breath, the exhale silent. The atmosphere, hovering all around the two boys, was null. They were neither here or there, but just—nowhere, where nothing belonged. And _nowhere _was eerily calm and tranquil and serene; all the emotions that had been there once, but now felt like butterflies, fluttering inside them, creating unpleasant yet nostalgic sensations. Kendall shifted in his seat while Carlos squinted curiously, spotting a blue bird. Nowhere was closer, encasing them. Carlos blinked—a meaningless action—and, suddenly, a shriek pierced his every being, making him shudder. His breath left him for a second when the back of his head collided against the window. His head bounced twice and then lay there, a pounding headache forming. Logan had him pinned with his body, whimpering his name over and over again until Carlos felt like he wanted to chop his own ears off.

In the background, Katie woke up with a startle; both Mrs. Knight and James shot up on their seats. Kendall was the last one to encounter the scene. The door of Ms. Hughes' office opened reluctantly, blonde hair poking out, followed by a paled face. Carlos' tears were fat and visible as he was struggling to breathe. It could have broken. Hurt them. Killed them both, or—just him. Death dropping in like a disliked friend. He faced away to look at a blank wall, an abrupt memory bombing his mind. Windows were breaking every second; blood was pooling everywhere; a dead girl; dead _people_. He swallowed a sour lump that had formed in his throat, having a hard time doing so since it had constricted. He identified these bone-chilling pictures as the dream he had had an eternity ago, back when he had been at that mangy hotel. It was all he could do; slide down to the floor—unable to go anywhere since Logan was blocking his way—and sob between his knees, arms wrapped tightly around himself. Kendall started to yell obscene words at Logan, who was shivering from head to toe, eyes wide, cold sweat running down his back. Meanwhile, Carlos broke down even more.

It was utter chaos, and then—nothing, again. A spooky silence filled the room. All the while, James, knowing it was the only thing he could do, stood up and grabbed Carlos by the arm, slowly bringing him up to his feet and into his chest, letting the raven sob quietly in his shirt. He glared at Kendall and Logan for a second before he pulled the short boy away and guided him out, into the parking lot. Along the way, when they reached the car, Carlos caught sight of the same bird. Though this time its wing was bleeding; there was no movement from it. And when Carlos realized it was dead, he only continued to stare at it, absentmindedly deciphering what could have been the cause. James, too, saw the bird. He gulped at the sight while the raven intertwined their fingers, gently squeezing his hand, murmuring words that he couldn't have understood even if he'd had the best hearing in the world.

**ooo**

Mrs. Knight stood at the entrance with Ms. Hughes, head bowed in shame. "I…" She didn't have words for what just happened; didn't have a reasonable excuse. She couldn't understand as to why she had not stopped it the moment it started. She had only sat there, hugging Katie close to her, mixed emotions overwhelming her. "I'm sorry," was all she could mumble out, looking like a little girl who'd just been caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar.

"It's okay, Mrs. Knight," responded Ms. Hughes in a calm voice, almost motherly-like. "Believe it or not, I _have_ seen worse. I'm not insulting anyone here, but I have. Now…because of what just happened, I will let you decide. Would you still like to have session tomorrow? We can start…fresh. By pairs is a good suggestion." She smiled humorously, as if she'd just exited a comedy club and were telling a terrible joke.

Mrs. Knight nodded slowly, and smiled awkwardly, not knowing exactly why she was smiling. "Yes…that would be better, I think."

"Great." Biting her lip, Ms. Hughes looked over the mother's shoulder. She pointed two fingers furtively. "May I start with them two?"

Mrs. Knight didn't need to turn around to know who she was pointing at. She murmured a single word of approval, and made her way to the front driving seat of her car, where everyone waited. She jammed the key in the ignition and turned it, the engine roaring to life. Two long roads later, a grey car speeded by, almost crashing into her, as if the action had been done on purpose. Mrs. Knight had to screech to a mid-stop as the car sped away. Everyone lunged forward, though not a single scream was heard. Hearts gradually slowed down to a standard palpitation as Mrs. Knight turned the wheel and resumed driving with a cautious eye. Along the way she passed the pharmacy, deciding at the last minute she would pick up the medicine tomorrow. It wouldn't hurt to let another day pass by, would it?

**ooo**

It'd been unlike Carlos to slam the door, almost knocking its hinges off. James had to knock twice so the raven could open the door of _their_ room since he had locked it. And finally, the door squeaked, and, in a split second, closed again.

"Carlos, honey," Mrs. Knight said worriedly, now next to James. The tall brunette glanced at her, expression unreadable. She half frowned, placed a hand gently on his shoulder, and spoke in a low voice, as if saying the words out loud would cause for the raven to dash out of the apartment. "James, can you try and reason with him? Maybe it's just me, but it seems as if you're the only person he's talking to now, these days."

Another glance, followed by a nod. He was going to enter anyway, even if Carlos didn't like it. Mrs. Knight smiled weakly, and left his side. He knocked again, and, as if Carlos had sensed that only James was there now, opened the door and pulled the taller boy in. Carlos sniffled loudly and led James to the far end of the room, taking serious precautions so no one else would hear him when he spoke—especially Logan. He'd already formed the words in his mind when a stab to his brain made him wince, cutting him off. He rested his head against the wall, breathing shallowly. James reached out a hand, but Carlos hid his face behind his arm. He made an effort to clear his throat, the innards of his stomach ready to tumble out of his mouth. He dropped his arms to his side, looking up at James.

"Carlos," spoke James shakily. "Did–"

"Logan," Carlos choked out, trying hard not to throw up at the moment, or fall unconscious on the floor. "He– When I hit my head… The window… I-I remembered." His voice took on a more controlled tone, almost an inaudible whisper. "J-James… What happened? Why did Logan lie to me? Why did we… I don't…" He pursed his lips, then bit his bottom lip, on the verge of crying again. It'd just been there, another memory; it'd all come back, then disappeared, washed away by a sea of that dreadful amnesia.

James, not understanding what the raven was saying, asked the obvious question Mrs. Knight had wanted to ask him. "Did you, um…get hurt?" He rubbed his shoulder, a quick flashback from when Carlos had spilled tears all over his shirt crossing his mind. It was still slightly wet.

The Latino didn't know whether his friend was referring to the previous incident or about the memory that had just vanished. "What do you think?" he responded solemnly. His voice went back to a whisper, anger flowing through every word, "I hate him. I hate him so much."

"Carlos…he… Don't say that…" He didn't know what else to say.

"Don't talk to me about him! He's a jerk; liar; a psycho. I wish he was dead, just like _Nat!_"

And that last word did it. James stared at Carlos with an open mouth. Carlos' face was red, body frozen.

_James was sure he was here today. He'd seen him during lunch, and third and sixth period. Now it was after school, and he'd left Logan and Kendall waiting outside. He stood there ten more seconds, outside of Carlos' last class of the day, but the boy never came out. Sighing, James understood that Carlos had the tendency to, many times—if not always—be late. He would happily wait, Logan would too, but Kendall was probably fidgeting already, eager to see the new movie that just came out; but it was an unspoken rule between them: no one was left behind; they all had each other's backs. And so, James decided to look for him. The school was nearly empty. It was a Friday, which meant the halls had been cleared in less than five minutes after the last bell had rung. But even so, Carlos was nowhere to be found. James grumbled something and started towards the exit door of the building._

_"Did you find him?" asked Kendall, rocking on his heels impatiently._

_"Nope." James shook his head. He shot a prying look at Logan, noticing that the boy had on a concerned look, along with something else—as if he knew something they didn't. However, before he could ask anything, Kendall beat him to it._

_"Hey, Logan. Didn't Carlos stay over at your house yesterday? Did he say anything about ditching us?"_

_"Ditching?" The three boys spun around, finding their friend with a childish pout on his lips. "That hurts, Kendall."_

_Kendall raised an eyebrow. "Well, now that you're here, we can finally leave. To the–"_

_"Leave where? I thought you dorks had no life." Nat's voice was like a deadly snake that wrapped itself around their throats. "Especially that nerd." He eyed Logan with a fearsome smile. "Or is it the narcissistic wimp? Or the tempered blonde?" Then he pointed his chin at Carlos. "Maybe it's the _stupid_ short one. Am I right, Carlos?"_

_"Leave him alone, Nat," said Logan, scowling defensively. "There's no reason for you to bully us. We haven't done anything to you."_

_Nat growled. "Might I remind you the time when you egged–"_

_"Guys, let's just ignore him. He's got no other hobby than bother to us. He's the one with no life. C'mon, we're gonna miss the movie; it starts in thirty minutes," said Kendall, glaring at Nat. Logan nodded and waved for Carlos and James to follow, who were the most transfixed on the boy._

_"Alright, bye. See you Monday at school." Grinning, he cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted mockingly, "See ya later, ugly." Then he turned and started on a slow stride across the road._

_Acknowledging the insult, Carlos tugged on James' sleeve, who had stopped walking, urging for him to just 'Forget Nat' and keep going. Kendall and Logan had already rounded the corner, but James stood on the same spot, shoulders taut. His face had lit up into a mix of fury and embarrassment. James didn't have the type of nature of one who would _severely_ threaten somebody, but something about this boy made him tick, fall off the edge, made his neck veins pulse. His hands clenched into fists, though he wasn't intending on starting a fight; violence was the furthest thing away from his mind right now. But, verbally, he wanted to do some damage back. As a result, while Carlos failed to persuade him, his lips parted, and hesitantly, called out the older boy's name. In spite of that, Nat continued to walk away, unaffected._

_"Fuck you, Nat. I hope you get run over by a car." And then, listening to his own words, James blinked, the desire for revenge gone. He nervously spun around to face Carlos, who was gaping with wide eyes, bewilderment written all over his face. James' throat went dry. He checked one last time behind him; Nat had disappeared into the distance. "I'm–"_

_"It's okay," whispered Carlos. "I would've probably said that, too, when he called me stupid."_

_"Why…didn't you?"_

_Carlos smirked, rolled his eyes in amusement. "Logan would've smacked me."_

_"Oh." The corner of James' lips twitched. "He's not your mother, you know," he replied with a raise of the eyebrows._

_"I'm glad." Carlos shrugged nonchalantly, as if he'd remembered something else; though James chose not to probe._

_He decided to keep the odd conversation going. It kept his mind off of what just happened; made him less scared. "What about Kendall?"_

_"Hm." Carlos put a finger to his chin, putting on an exaggerated thinking face. "No. He'd be like a manly mother." James laughed. "I'm serious! He'd probably whip me if I did something wrong. Unlike you, I think you'd be a good one."_

_"Dude. I am not going to be your mother."_

_"Oh, why not?" pleaded Carlos._

_"Because. You're my best friend. That'd be weird. You're like a brother to me."_

"_Hm…that's right. So…um…about…"_

_"Y-yeah. Sorry about that. I kind of…snapped." James smiled sheepishly._

_"Just as long as you don't threaten me I'm fine," said Carlos. He scowled the next instant, immediately regretting what he'd just said._

_James couldn't deny it. It was something weird, over the top, but he kept his laughter in and responded, "Okay. Don't worry, dude. I'll never go crazy on you."_

"That was a– I-I didn't know it would really happen. I swear I didn't–" whispered James as he dropped to his knees. "I didn't… I just said it, but…"

Carlos was speechless, realizing what he'd just said. Nat was dead. That bully that used to torment them back when they were in– He couldn't remember what place. But the memories hit him, falling on top of each other like dominoes. The wait; the verbal fight; the joking; the vague happiness. Everything had been alright. And then, the next day. The news; Nat was in the hospital. The next week, pronounced dead. Carlos blinked, tears spiking his cheeks as he choked out the brunette's name, wanting to shout and complain that if all his life has been a lie; a disaster; pure bull shit. Everything had been horrible from the start; but how long ago had been the 'start'? He repeated the tall boy's name, but he was no longer beside him. Raising his eyes, there stood James in the bathroom, combing his hair with his new comb, spraying Cuda all over himself. Carlos stood up, walking slowly towards the bathroom.

"I'm not ugly, I'm not ugly, I'm not ugly," mumbled James wildly in front of the mirror, the three words a never-ending sentence.

It was like an anonymous disease. First Logan, then him, then Kendall, then James. All his so-called friends and 'boyfriend', each being twisted and ripped by this—this _something_ that could have come out of a psychological horror movie. It wouldn't be long before one of them truly erupted.

**ooo**

Sunday wasn't really the best day for therapy. Especially if the previous day had been crappy. Simple as that. Just plain crappy. Because, in everyone's book, it was. Nothing good had happened that day. Nothing good will happen onward, predicted some of them.

"It's enough with all the crazy things he's done…now you want me to sit next to him," said Kendall on the opposite side of the room, "No way." He'd scooted away upon sitting down on the chair. "He's gonna kill me."

Logan's empty gaze studied the blonde. "I'm not a killer." Saying that gave him a bitter taste in his mouth. That word had been penetrating him for the last week, and though he thought of Carlos every time it was said, he couldn't get the feeling that something else was there. Something else _connected_ to that foul word.

"You're almost there. Or have you already hurt someone else, huh, Logan?" spat Kendall sarcastically.

"Kendall, would you mind explaining to me as to why you are angry with Logan?" questioned Ms. Hughes. The blonde went instantly silent. She addressed Logan next. "Would _you_ mind telling me?"

Kendall interrupted, "He's not going to tell you the truth."

"Then would _you_?" demanded Ms. Hughes.

He was stunned. He pursed his lips, looking down at the floor, then at the therapist. "Um." The succinct comment was hoarse; he cleared his throat. It wasn't something easy to say. "He–" How could he word it? Suddenly, being angry and keeping quiet wasn't the only answer. He avoided saying the brunette's name as he spoke uncertainly, "He-he raped Carlos."

Ms. Hughes didn't reply directly. "And how do you know this?" her voice was grave.

"I-I talked with Carlos…sometime ago." He was shocked that he'd lost track of time.

"What happened sometime ago?"

"Um, Carlos and Logan went on a trip."

"Why?"

"I…I had tickets for them to go see a hockey game…in Canada. It was supposed to be a getaway. Um, romantic getaway…sort of. So," he choked up," um, Logan…could tell Carlos he…liked him." His voice then took on a sour tone," I guess that never went through."

"After that trip, you saw changes in him." Kendall shook his head, almost hesitantly, as if he was now debating whether what he thought was actually real or not. He wouldn't know. He was never there. But– "So if he likes Carlos, what makes you think he violated him?"

"I already–"

"Did they agree to the trip or did you force it on them? It was your idea, was it not?"

Kendall blinked, then frowned. "What are we talking about?"

Ms. Hughes folded her arms on her lap. "I don't know. Direct me, Kendall. Take me through your train of thought. Let's let Logan and I take a look."

Kendall sat there, numb all over. "I–" He shuddered. He put them on that plane. That trip. Was it possible that… "My fault?" he muttered, mostly to himself.

"So you think it's your fault that Logan hurt Carlos?"

"I never hurt him!" snapped Logan.

_My fault. My fault. My fault._ Kendall kept replaying those words over and over again in his mind.

Ms. Hughes smiled. "I think this has gone long enough. Please exit through the door, and send in James and Katie."

Kendall didn't hear the message, for his thinking was solely focused on one question, "_Is all this my fault?_"

**ooo**

"James, are you okay? We can go home now." Mrs. Knight knocked on the door of the restroom. Five seconds later it opened, out walking the tall brunette with a dull expression. "Everyone's in the car. We're just waiting for–"

"Can I…walk home?"

"Um…"

"Please?" Out of that usually cocky face came out an innocent one, full of pleading emotions; as if a long-time barrier had been stripped off from the once-overly proud teen. Mrs. Knight blinked, nodded weakly in approval. And as soon as she boarded the car, driving away, James caught a glimpse of Carlos' face; he looked heartbroken. Ignoring it, he started on the sidewalk, staring at his feet throughout the way home. For some reason, three blocks down, he took another route, and slowed down. He looked up, the white light of the sun blinding him.

"Hey."

He blinked, turned his head to spot a man, pink and blue dots coating his face. Blinking once again, his vision bettered, revealing a face; a face he swore he'd seen before, somewhere in the distant past. The man, sporting a short shag of brown hair and eyes that were unbelievably coal black, smirked, mouthing another sinister greeting. If it wasn't for the people walking in and out of stores and the few cars passing by, James would've been strangely terrified; nevertheless, a trail of goosebumps had managed to jump on his neck, taking a trip down his arms and back. He heard his name being called. Carlos? He was running this way, face scratched up here and there. James wondered where they came from; they hadn't been there minutes ago. Carlos was closer now, eyes desperate and lustful.

All of a sudden, James felt something cold in his hand, along with the warm grip of a big hand on his wrist. His index finger was gently placed on a thin slice of metal, but he couldn't look down to see what it was. He avoided looking at the mysterious face, too, though he could feel a distant breath on his ear, shallow, _excited_. His vision was rooted on the oncoming Carlos, who was ten, nine, eight feet way. James' body felt weak for some reason. His hand was raised by the warm grip. During that he heard three specific sounds.

The hollow _crack_ on his neck as his head lolled to the side, gaining a tilted view of the approaching Carlos.

Creases had formed on the short boy's forehead, looking down at where James' hand was. "Jamie…" His voice was frightfully sweet, indicating he was in one of those love trances that James hated so much.

Just because he and Logan were dating didn't mean he had to fall in love with every best friend.

_"You're like a brother to me."_

Sometimes things went too far. Sometimes things happened way too fast. Sometimes things happened with or without coincidence. And these things all happened with a cause and effect; either the cause was unknown and the effect was known, or vice versa.

The surrounding noises were louder, and some people had stopped midway to stare at the raven who was now standing in front of the brunette, two feet apart. The brunette's eyes—expression, everything about his mental state—were completely dead.

_"Don't worry, dude. I'll never go crazy on you."_

The third sound was heavy and fleeting that it could have almost ruptured the onlookers' eardrums.

* * *

**A/N:** See? I'm not dead… As I've said many times before, I'm just a procrastinating bastard. [;


	28. Pitch Black

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Big Time Rush.

**Twenty-eight – Pitch Black**

Both boys were inside the raven's dim-lighted bathroom, the dead of night accompanying them with its eerie tranquility. Kendall was leaning against the closed door while Carlos sat in the bathtub, body tucked into the furthest part of the acrylic crevice. The curtain was drawn halfway, and so Kendall could only follow the vague outline of Carlos' body as it shifted. He'd found him like this, about an hour ago, and he still didn't have the courage to step to the side and look at the boy, just to merely check if he was okay. As if staring into that face for just a second would destroy something within him; that bit of cracked courage that kept him from going insane. Tired from putting all his weight on one foot, he swung his other leg down, accidentally slipping to the left in the process. At that instant, he regretted moving that one inch. Carlos' giggle was dry as he placed a hand against the tiled wall. He stretched out his index finger, and pointed straight at the showerhead.

"Maybe I did love him at one point," he mumbled to himself, forgetting that the blonde was just a few feet away, ears open, yet afraid to listen. "I…I _liked_ him, though. He was nice, and…normal? But–" Carlos blinked, tears of anger visibly spilling. "He gave me his heart. But he _stole_ mine, and never returned it. I'm being stupid; no one returns stolen things. That's why it's called _stealing_." He bit his lip sheepishly, and then sighed. "Kendall, have you ever loved someone?" Carlos' question came as a shock to the blonde. Carlos dropped his hand and awkwardly slid to the opposite side, turning to face Kendall. "Did you ever forget you loved that person? Did you ever question yourself if it was real, or if it was just a big fat lie? You wanted an answer, right? An answer to the question. But you can't get any without questions that _hurt_. Hurt your soul, your mind; everything, until you don't know anymore. And you keep trying, but you've hit the point of—of oblivion. Like rock bottom, but not really because _everything_ has disappeared altogether, and you can never find the pieces…ever again."

Carlos' vocabulary was so disturbingly dark that it made Kendall's stomach flip too many times to count. Every little thing about him was just _too_ _real_; the way his face contorted into a mass of hurt and betrayal, matching his inconsistent tone of voice; plus, any hint that gave away he was lying was absent. The combination of those three alone puzzled and irritated Kendall's mind. His knees wavered beneath him, and he had to collect what little physical strength he had left to keep himself upright, absolutely _refusing_ to crumple down onto the floor like he'd wanted to two days ago, after the…_occurrence_.

"Letters make everything more interesting," said Carlos, his voice taking on another tone; a sarcastic one. "Especially if they come in tiny black boxes that you can't resist. I know _I_ couldn't. I shouldn't have read it. It made everything worse. For me…and…him." There was a thump following the abrupt silence, making Carlos gasp. "James?" He jumped out, a broken smile grazing his lips. "James, is that you?" He pushed Kendall out of the way and tripped out of the bathroom, mumbling the tall brunette's name over and over again. "Where are you? James?"

Kendall followed behind, keeping his distance. Carlos' mid sentence about a mysterious letter had suddenly captured his interested, stamping every thought with the word _letter _and repeating until there was no room left_. _"Carlos…? What were you talking about? What letter?" He took a step forward, about to touch the boy's shoulder. "Why are you telling me this? You–"

"What?" The raven turned around, the word fused with desperation and confusion. "Where's James? Do you know where he is? I thought I heard him…" He narrowed his eyes. "Please tell me. Where's James!" he shrieked.

"S-stop it. You're going to wake up–"

"James!" cried Carlos. "Ja–"

Before he could throw another outburst, Kendall slapped his hand over his friend's mouth, holding him tightly from behind, arm wrapped around the trembling waist. They stayed like that for a while, Carlos mouthing the tall brunette's name on Kendall's hand, each uttering gradually being pronounced slower. Kendall's hold only got tighter on him. The small boy craned his neck and raised his eyes, looking straight into worried emeralds. Carlos' eyes were a deep brown, and entirely filled with a chilling craziness that it made the blonde shudder and let go. As Carlos collapsed on his knees to the floor, Kendall shook his head slowly as if in disbelief, and without another glance back, exited the room and ran into his, closing it shut.

**ooo**

Carlos screamed himself awake. He sat up, panting and shivering on the bed, not wanting to be taken by sleep again. He was mentally petrified by the fact that if it did, the inevitable darkness would gladly welcome him back into that dreamy hell. He let his head drop in exhaustion, listening. No one had woken up. Carlos sighed, relieved that only the scream of terror had only affected him. Ever since that day—a lingering bitterness that vividly lived with him every waking moment—those bloody, bone-chilling images had been able to morph into mocking, gruesome animations in his sleep, terrorizing and driving away every sweet dream (not that sweet dreams regularly visited him anymore) until all that was left was just that one nightmare. He coughed quietly, and then blindly swept his hands across the top of the bedside table until he found his object of desire.

Mrs. Knight had introduced these to him a week ago; she said the doctor had prescribed them to him. And, supposedly, doctors were always right. They were for his 'blackouts', and he was to take one every day. But Carlos, since finding out the side effects of these little tranquilizers, had disobeyed the original orders. In other words, ironically, one pill would instantaneously make him drowsy, and so he'd been taking one (the second one of the day) for the past three days at exactly eleven in the night to help him go back to sleep after he woke up from his nightmare. He finished doing that just now, relishing in the slothful effect of the drug that was slowing all activity in his brain. Carlos shut his eyes and buried his face in the warmth of his pillow.

But an hour later, the nightmare returned. He whimpered in his sleep, and subconsciously curled up into a protective ball under the comforter.

Carlos was staring down at a grey stone, the silhouette of his motionless self blanketing it. His glare was intense, _wanting_ to understand the script that was engraved on it. Twilight was rapidly fading, peeling off his shadow from the stone, revealing the complicated riddle: '_I love you_'. It was gibberish, an _outrage. _Those words—they were _taunting_ him. The corners of Carlos' lips twitched, and as he was about to flee, a grip on his wrist jerked him to a stop. His eyes went wide as white, slender fingers pressed fervently into his skin, bruising it a deep purple. All at once, a face with a toothy smile appeared in front of him—the gruesome happiness in it making him cringe—and high-pitched whispers began rising above the looming darkness, all with the same message: _do you love– Do you love me?_

Everything about that thing—the _person_ that Carlos, no matter whether he was awake or sleeping, couldn't avoid, never, because he had said one day that nothing would ever come between them, ever again—started to decay. First the hands that had him trapped, then the face that repulsed him so much, and then rest of the body. A skeleton was left, grinning like a clown. Carlos screeched and pulled away. He was far away from the grinning corpse, sprinting like there was no tomorrow, when he bumped into a shadowed figure. Carlos froze, squinted, froze again, then choked out a sob. He threw himself on the taller boy, taking in the comforting scent of his skin; he never wanted to let go. Suddenly, a hot liquid stung Carlos' arms. He looked away from James' face and noticed that the boy's skin was melting. Carlos stood horrified, unable to physically react. As if the picture couldn't get anymore sickening, the melting skin transformed into a black ooze that spiraled down onto the pitch black ground in thick, graceful curls.

At this point he would wake up, but the nightmare took him further into its visual monstrosity.

Carlos' breathing was getting shallower by the second, lungs screaming and burning inside him. James was completely gone, and now he was standing in a pool of ooze that seemed to get bigger, swallowing him up. It was up to his knees when thousands of skeletal fingers shot out of the non-existent ground and grabbed his arms and legs; they stretched him every which way, but the act was unnervingly painless. James flickered back into view, smiling at him—without lips. Carlos' scream was silent this time when he woke up. His eyes snapped open all too quickly, the early sunlight blinding him instantly. He moaned, and shielded his eyes. All the while, he gradually registered the aches all over his body, and the fierce pounding in his head. He considered taking another pill, and another, and another, until the numbness permanently took over, and he could be in peace_ forever_, but he knew no pill or any kind of medicine could cure this. He clutched at his chest, right where his heart was. Was it still beating? The steady _ba-dump_,_ ba-dump_ made him relax a little.

He threw the covers off himself, a gush of cool wind roughly hitting him. He fought the urge to go back to bed, and quietly exited the room, followed by the apartment. The hallway was vacant; everyone was resting in their room, and noises were hidden, waiting for daylight; however, he could feel that same coldness follow him with every cautious step. Carlos blinked once he was outside of the hotel, and paused. He looked around and rubbed his arms, picking up the feeling that he was being watched. He was frightened, knowing perfectly that he _was_ under a spotlight, targeting him with silent, ominous threats. He continued with his walk, feet dragging across the gravel. Though his brain was oblivious as to where they were taking him, his heart was conscious of the route. He felt like a living puppet, trying to find the lost essence of his master, the one who created him, his emotions, personality, memories and speech. His pace didn't change, and so when a loud screech accompanied by bright white lights startled him did Carlos realize he had been walking in the middle of the road.

He sucked in a breath to keep from screaming, and took immediate flight. Seconds, minutes passed by, and it felt as if he'd been running forever. Unaware of the busy picture he was entering, he tripped and landed face flat on the ground. Grunting, he stood up, grimacing at the scrapes on his hands; droplets of warm blood trickled down his hands, highlight the pulsing veins beneath the peeled skin. Carlos shuddered and squeezed his eyes shut, then counted to three as slowly as possible. He opened his eyes, and looked around swiftly. Nothing. The space he'd entered was pure open ground, except for the little amounts of rocks and roots jutting out of it. Carlos whimpered, looking for something to lean against; he was fatigued, mentally and physically.

He couldn't stand it anymore; the never-ending fight between day and night. Every little thing was a memory that he could or could not remember, rattling his every being. Carlos gasped; but it wasn't because of something he'd seen. A sharp pain seared through the back of his head, and next thing he knew he was being lifted off the ground. He tried to move, but it was as if he'd been paralyzed; he could neither see nor speak. His hearing was one of the two senses that didn't fail him at that hour; and the only sounds he could hear were chuckles, dark and satisfied. The other sense reacted with such nauseating intensity, like someone had dropped acid down his throat. The smell of nicotine hit his nose, which made Carlos consciously think of a name; a name he couldn't remember all the letters of, but was vaguely cognizant that it started with an _A_.

**ooo**

Mrs. Garcia's voice was raspy as she spoke, "My husband will be there in about ten minutes. I'm so sorry I couldn't be there. I really hope Kendall and James are fine. You don't think this will affect–"

"It's okay. He–_they_, were like sons to me, and brothers to them. If anything…this session will help all of us. "

"Thank you, Jennifer, for everything." Mrs. Knight choked out a sob. "Don't beat yourself up over it. Just don't lose hope. We will find Carlos, and justice will be made for Logan. His dad is trying hard. And so are you. " Silence. "Um… I also called for something important. Have you…had any contact with Joanna and Brooke? I mean, I know you talked with Joanna…but…that was a month ago…"

Mrs. Knight sighed. Clues had been put together, and now they had been at it for three years trying to find out what happened in between; what happened that caused this mess. Logan had met his tragic fate three years ago, along with Carlos and James. And now her son was declining mentally, slowly meeting the same fate that had taken down his friends, every day an anticipation she dreaded. No matter how much she tried, Kendall was almost gone also.

"Mom?"

Mrs. Knight dropped the phone, the end dial echoing throughout the white hallway. She turned and tugged her daughter into a hug, who was nearly her height now. She then pulled away, looking at her with shaking eyes. Her brown hair had grown longer, pulled tight in a low ponytail that draped itself gently over her right shoulder. The exhaustion was clear in her droopy eyes.

"Katie, I thought you weren't going to come."

The girl bit her lip, looked away with sorrow in her eyes. "I just wanna–"

"I don't think you'll be able to handle it, sweetie. Remember last time you saw him? You couldn't stop crying."

"Mom, that was a year ago. I'm older. I can control myself."

Mrs. Knight sighed again. She turned from Katie to the window, where Kendall was sleeping peacefully. And though that single expression gave her hope, she knew deep inside that peacefulness wouldn't last.

Almost ten minutes later, inside the small room, Kendall was woken up. Not by someone, nor by his brain, but by a squeak. Normally it would be caused by wheels, but this squeak had been produced by a voice. A voice he was so scared to find out _who_ it belonged to. He opened his eyes, and the first thing that came out of his mouth was a nonchalant 'Hi', greatly surprising himself and the person in front of him. They were in a room, cushy with warm-white walls, blue carpet, and two single sofas that were decorated with one blue pillow each. It subtly reminded Kendall of those short therapy days. The door was left ajar as the other person hesitated, then sat down in front of him.

"Uh," was the response.

"I guess…we should talk," said Kendall uncomfortably.

No answer.

_No answer_. No _answers_. He squirmed in his seat. He _hated_ that. He took in three deep breaths, suppressing his rising hysteria. If he wanted an answer he'd have to dig a hole for one, like he's been doing the past years already. But each hole, so far, had come up empty.

"James."

James looked directly at him. He looked…so _different_. Not in the definition of his facial features, but the emotion in them. It made James look five years younger; a scared, little kid that didn't know much, but associated himself with scary, grownup problems; _dangerous_ problems, and deadly conclusions. "I can't do this, Kendall." The words ran right out of his mouth, and Kendall had to strain his hearing to understand his fast tongue. "I-I _can't_. I swear I'm not crazy. I don't belong here. But what happened that day—oh, _God_. Carlos saw. Carlos _saw_. I-I think that's why he disappeared; that's why he left. It's my fault–"

"No!" Kendall was startled. That word; he despised it with such passion, yet it made him recoil internally. "It's no one's fault, James." His green eyes grew three times their size. "No one's. H-he was kidnapped. You need—we need to talk, James." Kendall was hyperventilating, attempting to calm himself. Flashbacks came back to him. Two months after those horrific episodes, they'd quit Rocque Records and moved back to Minnesota. James' mom had put him in this mental center, acting as if she'd never had a son at all after that, and soon enough, Kendall had joined him. Though they had never talked; never been allowed to. Until now. "I don't want to do this either. But we need to if we want to find Carlos, and find out who hurt Logan and why–"

James slowly shook his head, manic-like characteristics shaping on his face. "No! I-I can't!" He stood up, threw the chair and tackled Kendall. "I don't wanna relieve that day! I swear I didn't kill Logan, Kendall. Please–"

"You didn't, James!" screamed Kendall, his own emotions going into manic-mode.

"Then if I didn't, why did Carlos disappear?" shrieked James. "Why are they doing this to us? We're never going to find Carlos—ever again!"

"You don't know that!"

"But he's gone, Kendall," breathed James as his eyes grew, big and round like the size of quarters. "He's gone, just like Logan." James punched the floor with every 'gone' he shouted until his knuckles were red and raw, thin lines of blood painting the floor.

Kendall's face paled. He couldn't speak anymore. What James was saying, it was all revoltingly true.

_Gone_._ Gone_._ Gone_.

Three nurses came in, immediately tranquilizing the taller man.

Outside the room, Mr. Garcia watched with a solemn face. Next to him, Mrs. Knight cradled Katie in her arms, the girl's head buried in her chest, body quivering as she cried silently.

**ooo**

The soil was wet with yesterday's rainfall. Footprints were visible on the ground; some light and secret, some heavy and sloppy. Beneath Minnesota's clearing sky and breaking rays of sunlight, a quiet house was seated upon the dew-covered grass. In the living room was a vase. No pattern, no intricate carvings, just a simple, white vase. As Joanna Mitchell entered the living room, she froze. The lid was missing. She rubbed her arm, and briskly walked towards the vase. She reached out her arm, about to grab it, but the shelf suddenly shook, making the vase tumble onto the floor. Pale marble shattered and dull-coloured ashes scattered everywhere, spreading the smell of death throughout the house. Behind her stood two shadows. They looked at each other, then at Mrs. Mitchell.

"Mom, have you seen Carlos?"

Mrs. Mitchell sank to her knees, placing her hands on the ash-covered floor.

"Mom?"

"She's not going to listen to you."

"Shut up."

"Shut up? Aw, you shouldn't be angry with me anymore. It's all over."

"Over…?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"What's…? What did you do!"

"Don't scream at me. You'd never hurt me, would you?" Brown eyes were round, the false innocence in them a stabbing knife to the back.

"You-you're not him. You never will be. Mom! Mom!" Logan shouted, but she kept sobbing into the ashes she had gathered in her hands. When she failed to answer, he ran into the hallway, kicking the door to his room open. He rushed inside, and stopped. Sitting on his bed was Carlos. No. Not _Carlos_. It was that _thing_ he always kept mistaking for Carlos, sitting Indian style and smiling at him. He staggered back. "You…you did this?"

The corners of its lips turned up even higher. "I didn't do anything."

"But you said…you…haunt…"

"Oh, did I? I lied. I was just part of it. I already did what I wanted. I mean, we're the same puzzle, so I guess I learned those traits from you, right?"

"I-I don't know wh…" He backed up against a wall, head in his hands.

"You _should_ know all this is none of my fault."

"It _is_ your fault!" he screamed as he wildly ran towards It, clawing at the figure with all his might. Every time he missed, only managing to swipe the air.

"No, it's not. Why would you blame _me?_ Don't you love me?"

"I love Carlos, not you," he said in a low voice as he balled up his fists, shoulders trembling, overcome with an emotion that he couldn't tell if it was fear or anger.

"Not fair. You shouldn't say that!"

"And why shouldn't I?" spat Logan. "It's the truth."

It chewed the inside of its cheek as it tapped a finger against its chin thoughtfully. "Because. All this?" It waved its hands in random motions for emphasis. "It's actually stupid, little, fucking Carlitos' fault."

Logan froze. He leaned against the same wall for support as his mind began reeling with thousands of questions. He needn't to ask though, because the thing before him grinned, eyes sparkling as if getting ready to tell a fairytale.

"Don't be speechless; you know I'm right." It giggled. "Funny, because I thought falling in love was supposed to be the most wonderful thing in the world. You look dumbfounded. Let me refresh your mind with a chronological timeline. But as you've probably noticed by now, I like to play games, so you're going to fill in some blanks for me." Almost instantly, the whole room went black, as if someone had turned off the lights. Then their vision was focused on dozens of moving pictures, all of Logan and Carlos, as if someone had made a stupid love movie about them. But to Logan, it felt as if his memory had been sucked out of his mind and projected right in front of his very eyes. "Hey, look, there's you. So, ah… Here, we begin. When you first started—ha, ha—liking him. And who's that?" It questioned, Logan's stomach clenching at the dripping sweetness in the voice.

"Carlos," he answered absentmindedly.

"That's correct! One point for you! On to the next round! Hey, you remember _him_, don't you? Who is he, Logan?"

The brunette bit his lip, eyes lowering to the nothingness below his feet. "Nat."

"Two points! Now, what exactly did he do?"

"Tormented us," he growled suddenly, snapping his head back up to glare at the face of that jerk, eyes burning with familiar rage.

"Okay, you're doing well. But keep that temper down, Mr. Psycho, or else you'll slip up," It laughed. "Although you _have_ slipped up too many times to count, so I guess it doesn't matter at this point, ha, ha! _Any_way, let us continue. Oh, who's _that?_"

Logan was quiet this time. He stared at the person. Eyes that were dark enough to be labeled as pitch black. Short, brown hair. A smile that could deceive anyone. And his attire; the _same damn_ attire: a black hoodie, jeans, and black tennis shoes.

It sighed dramatically, annoyed with the lack of words from the pale boy. "Fine. Let's skip this one. It'll be a repeat anyway, so you have a second chance of recovering this lost point. Onwards! Look at that building. Do you know the name of it, Logan?"

"It's a hospital," he said succinctly.

"Good job! Let's go in, shall we? Pick a room."

He gritted his teeth, and dug the nails of his fingers into the palm of his hands. "One. Zero. Two."

"Hm, you actually remembered which room it was. Okay, let's go in. But wait! We have to wait for someone to get out before we sneakily enter the room. Who do we have to wait for? If you answer this one correct, your score will be doubled!"

"Next question."

"But Logan–"

"Just ask me the next question!"

"Alright, chill. In we go. Hey, there's Nat on the bed! Can you guess what's going to happen next?"

"Carlos," gasped Logan under his breath when he saw the raven appear by the far window.

It scowled. "_No_. Guess again."

"That's Carlos," said Logan dryly, turning his head to look at It with a confused expression.

It huffed angrily. "That's not Carlos, you idiot!" It pointed at the supposed boy. "That's me! You know why I'm there? Because—_look_. You walk towards the stupid bed, and say that you're doing that for me! You pulled the cord. You killed Nat for me!"

"No." Logan shook his head slowly. "No." He blinked rapidly, preventing the tears from flowing. "That's not true! I did that for Carlos! Nat—he hurt Carlos the most. I had to!"

"That's where you're wrong, Logan. Carlos never got hurt. He hurt _you_. He made you do this. It's his entire fault that this happened to you. It's _his_ entire fault you were driven off the cliff—but you did _that_ for _me!_ Do you see where I'm getting at? Now, enough. Let's end this little game. You pull the cord of the respiratory machine. You open the door, and walk quickly through the hallway, hoping to get by unnoticed. But along the way you bump into someone…"

Logan shuddered.

"You have one last chance to get this one right."

The brunette hunched his shoulders as his face shone with realization; the vile truth. "Arthur."

"And who is Arthur?"

It was that guy, the one who'd flirted with Carlos; the one who Logan had, at first glance, hated with such passion for reasons he could and couldn't distinguish at the time. "Nat's older brother…"

"Right!"

And that's when Logan flashbacked too many times it made his head hurt immensely. The airport. The plane. The crash. The money.

All revenge. Payback. And he'd accomplished it with great ease.

"Yeah, I guess that's the correct term. See how Carlos caused this? If he never made you fall for him, everything would be okay. But it all happened. It couldn't be avoided. But, like I said, one good thing came out of this. Since all of this is done," the memories disappeared, and they were back in Logan's room, "I'm done, too." It beamed. "Now we can be together, Logan."

"No. No, no, _no_."

"No? What does 'no' mean?"

"Stay. Away. J-just– Mom! Where's Carlos!" shrieked Logan, hoping his mother heard him.

"She can't hear you, and he's not coming. You have _me_, Logan," It said, almost sadly.

"I don't want you. You're– You're– I don't know what you are, but I want you out of my life, once and for all!"

"You keep saying that." It rolled its eyes in sarcastic amusement.

"Fine then!" he yelled. "I'll just _wait_ until Carlos comes." Logan let out tiny giggles, each a higher pitch than the other, more unstable than the other. "Good things come with time. I'll wait. I've always waited for Carlos, always will, and I can wait right now. And then you'll be gone forever. A-as they say, patience is a virtue–"

"_He. Won't. Come_."

"Stop it, you're wrong! You're just a stupid figment of my imagination! How would you know? You're not. _Real!"_

It cocked its head to the side and looked at its creator right in the eye with those brown eyes that Logan missed so much and didn't know why—why it felt as if he hadn't seen them in such a long time. "You're not real, either, Logan." It smirked sympathetically. "At least, not anymore. So don't expect to see your beloved one and only soon. _I_ am the one who stayed with you—through thick and thin. Carlitos?" It looked around the room. "'Patience is a virtue', bullshit. He never loved you. He only caused you pain." It took one step forward, pressing its lips to the brunette's neck, leaving a trail of cold, butterfly kisses down the milky-white skin. "You made me like this, Logan. You keep forgetting," It paused, breath close to Logan's lips, "that the _only_ one who can love you," It kissed him, and then spoke the last words in an almost inaudible whisper, "is me. _I'm_ the only Carlos in your life."

Before Logan could protest again, It pulled away, grinning big. It pointed a finger at the digital clock, then at the calendar. "So how about we forget all this, and watch Blue's Clues. Then, later, we can plan on whom to prank for Prank Day." It smiled angelically.

Logan's breath slowed down and his muscles relaxed; everything that was just said and done turned into a trivial speck of the past in a split second. "Prank…Day?"

"Yeah! It's tomorrow, silly," It said in that heart-melting husky voice he adored so much. "Since I love you so much, I'll let you pick this time."

"You…you love me?"

"_Duh_. That's what I've been trying to tell you all this time."

Logan blinked, shifting nervously from foot to foot. "You love me," he repeated indecisively. "Say it again," he breathed.

"I love you, Logan," It said, voice a perfect mix of happiness and sultriness.

He bit his lip, then cracked a smile. "Really?"

"_Really_. Forever and ever."

Licking his lips, he pounced and pinned those hips to the bed, yearning to do so much more. No longer did he see something—an _it_—but he saw what he'd been longing for all this time; what he had wanted, what he had waited for forever, to laugh and love and call him his own.

"Now _you_ say it."

Logan's hand was taken, squeezed lovingly by that other hand, the one with the beautiful caramel colour that contrasted just _perfectly_ with his pale skin.

He opened his mouth, and out came the soft-spoken sentence, "I…I love you, too…Carlos."

* * *

**A/N:** THE END!

Surprise… So, yes, many unanswered questions and loose ends. But I did that on purpose. I feel that if everything in between had been explained, then the story would've dragged on, so I decided to get straight to the point. And, also, I'm the type of person who likes to leave in a bit of mystery, haha. More candy for the imagination. [;

Hoped you all enjoyed this story. I know I did—well, the writing part (of course ;P). It took me almost three years to finish this thing. LOL. Procrastinating's not one of my best talents. Anyway, I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed, favourited, alerted, and all that stuffstuff. You. Are. All. Dipplylipplyawesome. Yeah, I just made that up… /facepalm

Let's just end this author's note right now.

Thank you, everyone. So, so much. [:


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